Erratic Shorts


Erratic Shorts

by Tyrell Hall

Copyright 2017 Tyrell Hall

All Rights Reserved

First Shakespir Edition

Shakespir Edition, License Notes

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Title Page

Copyright Page

Table of Contents

A Ride Home

Wet Thoughts

Long Lost

Author’s Notes

The crisp night air filled my lungs with the fresh scent of the pine trees behind me. Those trees, how they come to mind whenever life is tough. A family fight caused me to leave my mother’s side in her time of need. She’d gone to stay with my grandmother when she became ill. She passed a few months ago and now my mother was looking to do the same. She hasn’t gotten better.

Aunt Nikki, who is the youngest of the trio and has never left the nest. She went from asking for help to demanding it. Nothing like a mother who will bail you out of your financial issues, even when the debt is over a hundred grand. She now panics at the thought of losing her last safety net. “I’ll remain in that house no matter what happens. Mother would have wanted it that way. I mean who else would maintain the property? Samantha, you’re never around or too engulfed in your own affairs to care. With Lauren slipping away who’d be the better choice?” Putting out one cigarette and lighting another.

Aunty Sam, well, she blames grandma for her father leaving them when they were just kids. She blames her for the struggles they endured over the years. She lived as reckless as she claims her life was while she was growing up. Spending all she can to fill whatever void she insists she has.

Spraying her putrid lavender perfume. “Remember who’s the oldest Nikki. You’ll take half the profit after I sell my house and go do whatever it is you do in your spare time. The only reason it hasn’t been sold is because of Lauren.”

Aunt Nikki puts her cigarette out and leans forward. “Unless you want a permanent house guest, it would suit you to rethink that.”

Oh, that sweet pine smell. Traveling on my own, I start to rethink this hitchhiking thing. I’ve been here for hours and everyone seems to be wary of the guy on the side of the road. Funny, this was the only way my father ever traveled. I remember when I was twelve, my mother was going to fly out to spend time with grandma. She wanted to take me with her, but my father looked at me and said, “time for him to travel like a man.” I had no idea what that meant, but she smiled and kissed me on the cheek before leaving for her flight. I remember the scent of the pine trees near the truck stop where we were going to catch a ride. We sat under a tree while he enjoyed his daily beer. He told me things I wouldn’t come to understand until much later. I miss him a lot.

He left us the day after I graduated from high school. He patted me on the back and said, “I’m proud of you.” He then kissed my mother with more passion than I have ever seen from him. Then he walked away, and we never heard from him again.

Finally, a truck pulls up and I’m nervous about the state of my family. My mother holds everything grandma left behind, and now her sisters want more than their share. It would’ve been nice if my father were here. He’d run them off with a few choice words. The trucker opens the door for me and says, “After all this time you’re finally traveling like a man, son.”


Amazing, the drops from the faucet are so faint now. One after the other they become one body of a water overshadowed by the fluffy clouds of bubbles, they smell like honey.

(Knock, knock)

If only I could stay here where it’s timeless. It’s freeing yet secure. I can hear the sound of my heart beating to the rhythm of the dripping water. Each ripple is like a breeze moving the clouds back and forth. I’d rise to smell the honey, but the water can be as embarrassing as a mother’s hug.

(Knock, knock) “Are you ok in there,” a voice cries out from the hallway.

Timeless moments like these call for a summer’s breeze, palm trees and hungry birds. The sea crashing against the shore as the people watch and play. That’s what this moment needs, yet I have wall to wall dominos and faded laundry. However, this moment is still freeing and secure.

(Knock, knock) “Do you need anything? It has been a long time.”

That’s funny, this violent vibration keeps rushing through the bottom of the tub. That’s the third time now. The third time, have I been in here that long. I hope no one is in a hurry tonight. Uninterrupted bliss is all I want. Just a little longer until my fingers and toes wrinkle.

(Knock, knock, knock) “This isn’t funny Kenny please say something.”

Is that mom’s voice? A wave a water flows over the top of the top bathtub. “I’m ok, just another minute.” There goes the bliss

We’ve been down here for hours. The cabin pressure is the new norm and I find myself dreaming of the sun’s light. It must be here. With only another hour and a half of air left, I fear this may be another fruitless day. My only crew member navigates without worry. Pay is the only thing that motivates these kids now. No more passion for discovery. No late-night processing data. So much history forgotten because we only want to see the future.

There she is Shawn. No, not yet. I want a chance to take a closer look before the research team gets their hands on this. Shine the light down there. Yes, that’s the G.M.S., my boy. The past is finally becoming the present. Reports show that she was on her way back to Kins Island when she sank.

In the midst of what could possibly be one of the biggest discoveries of our lives and Shawn insisted on bringing lady luck. An optimistic smile as her hands waves carefree in the phantom air. The flower in her ceramic hair reminded me of the beauty in discovery.

The VHF radio goes off. The research team wants to confirm that we’ve found the ship. They have no idea the piece of history she holds. The knowledge of wealth, leads, even more, men astray. I lead them to believe that we’re not sure if this is the G.M.S., for it is not her wealth I want, but history and that of those aboard.

Thousands of feet underwater where the only light visible is that if this sub and yet I’m sweating, my heart racing and I can keep still. Lost in the sound of Shawn’s tapping fingers and the sight a rather curious squid we finally get reach the captain’s quarters. I haven’t felt this excited since my father gave my first toy boat and told about Prime Minster Bello and the lost G.M.S. If he were only here now. If I could just share this with him.

Shawn, stop shaking. If there are any repercussions, I’ll take them. Take the sub around the back. Near the Captain’s quarters. Yes, it’s said that’s where Prime Minster Bello kept her valuables. Of course, I don’t expect much to be salvageable but I know for a fact that she had a chest, specially made for these voyages and when the ship sank, the Prime Minster just happened to have a few important documents with her. Tell them we’re moving in closer to confirm. Detach the remote drone. If it’s here, then we’ll tell the rest of the team.

From shipworms to an ever-growing reef. The years seemed to have been both remarkable and unkind to her. The smell of salt in the air is a constant reminder of our limitations. The brown and green stains widen like the rings of a tree. Yet I can still hear the band playing and those aboard laughing and scheming. What a site it must have been.



Tyrell Hall is fiction writer and screenwriter who has several unpublished short stories, two short films and works with the M4 music group located in Atlanta Georgia. He’s written for an unsigned R&B/reggae artist, who collaborated with the indie label Soul Rebel Inc. When writing song and lyrics for others wasn’t working out, he created Tru Key Entertainment with his business associate Jacques Tolbert. With little to no success, Tyrell enrolled at Full Sail University to obtain his bachelor’s in Creative Writing. Connect with him on his Linkedin profile. https://www.linkedin.com/in/devan-hall-139741105/

Erratic Shorts

In "Long Lost" join a Marine Salvage expert as he tries to find a ship that was lost to a powerful storm. His organization wants its wealth while he wants the secrets she holds about the people and the ruler of the island she sailed from. We all have our moments we daydream. Nothing is more blissful than when all of your senses come together in a way that allows you to enjoy the now. Then without warning, reality walks up pinches you on the bottom. Have a blissful interruption with Kenny as he worries his mother in "Wet Thoughts". A rift between three sisters. A son struggling to make back to his ill mother and the sweet scent of pine trees. "A Ride Home" gives you a look into a families most authentic moments and a young man's longing for direction in life.

  • Author: Tyrell Hall
  • Published: 2017-04-30 15:05:08
  • Words: 1517
Erratic Shorts Erratic Shorts