Mark Starlin Writes!

Share this post

When Silence Isn’t Golden

markstarlinwrites.substack.com
Monday Morning Mark

When Silence Isn’t Golden

Luna • Stranded On A Deserted Island - Part 2

Mark Starlin
Jan 23
25
20
Share this post

When Silence Isn’t Golden

markstarlinwrites.substack.com
Wouldn’t It Be Weird?

Luna

NASA


Wouldn’t it be weird if you went to the dark side of the moon,

and found a giant sign with an arrow pointing down that said “EARTH.”

50-Word Microfiction

When Silence Isn’t Golden

Jakub Kriz


I always imagined the world would end in a fiery explosion. But my world ended with a high-decibel pulse. Then silence.

The heinous weapon was invisible. No mass destruction. Instead, it rendered everyone deaf. All lives were drastically changed.

But few suffered as painfully as my kind — the musicians.

A Serial Story Of Adventure And Surprises

Stranded On A Deserted Island • Part 2

Awaiting Rescue

Ian Schneider

When we left off last time, our hero had survived a storm at sea, although his ship was badly damaged. He eventually floated near an island and swam ashore. He was later spotted by an airplane and was awaiting his rescue. But that is not the end of the story, friends. Oh no. Far from it. The adventure continues.


As I sat enjoying my emergency beef jerky and The Partridge Family’s music, I couldn’t help but sing along with David Cassidy.

Travelin’ along, there’s a song that we’re singin’
Come on, get happy
A whole lotta lovin’ is what we’ll be bringin’
We’ll make you happy
We’ll make you happy
We’ll make you happy

As often happens when I hear The Partridge Family’s music, I reflected back on that tragic day when I learned the awful truth that Susan Day and Danny Bonaduce didn’t really play keyboards and bass. They were simply actors playing musicians. I tried to put that bit of disillusionment out of my head and enjoy the melodious, happy theme song. I was being rescued, after all. It was a time for happy thoughts.

As I Think I Love You began to play, I thought the record had been damaged by the salty sea air because there was a loud humming noise. It grew louder and louder. I noticed that it was also sputtering like an engine not running properly. I looked up, and to my horror, the same aircraft that had flown by earlier was returning. But it was dropping quickly toward the water.

NO! This can’t be happening. I thought. But it was. There was nothing I could do. I watched helplessly as it went down. Seconds later, the aircraft crashed into the ocean.

My heart sank. My hope of rescue was likely gone.

It may have been foolishness, but I immediately ran into the water and started swimming toward the airplane wreckage. As I got closer, I could see the aircraft sinking. I knew it would be underwater before I could reach it. I tried anyway. A few minutes later, it was gone. There was no sign of the pilot.

I treaded water, scanning the area for what seemed like several minutes. Then amazingly, a head popped up out of the water. I quickly swam toward the pilot. The pilot disappeared under the surface of the water. I swam after him. By the time I reached his location, he had popped up again.

“Hold on,” I yelled.

“I am fine. But my navigator is still in the plane.” It was a woman’s voice.

I dove down to get to the plane, but it was too deep. I couldn’t hold my breath that long. I returned to the surface.

The woman pilot looked at me, and I said, “I’m sorry, it’s too deep.”

“We should swim for shore,” she said and started doing exactly that.

When we reached the beach, we both were spent. The pilot rolled onto her stomach on the sand. I think she began to cry quietly, but I didn’t want to intrude. After a few minutes, she turned and looked at me.

“Thank you for trying to rescue Fred,” she said.

“I am sorry I couldn’t make it to him.”

“He was likely dead already. The windshield broke free when we hit the water and hit him in the head. He was unconscious. I tried to unbuckle him, but his belt jammed. I finally got his belt off, but by then, we were sinking. I tried to pull him out of the plane, but I could barely move him. The plane filled with water and began to sink. I pulled off my jacket and tried to pull him out of the airplane, but I was out of air. I rose to the surface, took a deep breath, and went back down. But the plane was sinking too fast. I couldn’t get to it. I imagine he had already drowned by then. I resurfaced, and that’s when I saw you.”

I offered her some jerky, which she declined. Something about her seemed oddly familiar.

“You look familiar to me. Do I know you?”

“I am quite well-known. I’ve been in all the papers. My name is Amelia Earhart.”

“Amelia Earhart?! That’s impossible. You disappeared 80 years ago.”

“Well, I can assure you, I am only 39 years old.”

I was stunned. Was this some kind of prank? No, it couldn’t be. Who would crash their own plane as a prank? Maybe she was delusional. But she sure did look like the photos of Amelia Earhart I had seen.

“What year do you think it is?” I asked.

“What? Today is July 2, 1937.”

“It’s actually 2018,” I replied.

“I don’t believe you.”

I walked over to the stack of albums and grabbed one. I brought it back and showed Amelia the copyright date on the back of the album cover.

“Look, this album is dated 1972. And it’s 46 years old.”

She looked at the date and then looked at me quizzically. I showed her the expiration date on one of the beef jerky packages.

“I don’t understand.” She said.

“I don’t understand either. How can you be alive and still so young?”

She stared at me for a moment, deep in thought.

“Perhaps I know. Back in Papua New Guinea, the locals warned us of time storms in the Pacific. That’s what they called them. They said they come out of nowhere, and if they hit you, you vanish. Then the storms disappear instantly. They claimed to have met people who came out of time storms and swore they were from the future or the past. Of course, we thought it was all nonsense. Now I am not so sure. Let’s sit down.”

We both sat on the sand, and Amelia began telling me the tale of their flight.


To be continued next Monday.

Happy Monday. Thanks for reading and responding. You make it fun.

Mark


Monday Morning Mark • 126
20
Share this post

When Silence Isn’t Golden

markstarlinwrites.substack.com
Previous
Next
20 Comments
Debbie ( aka butterflykisses )
Jan 25Liked by Mark Starlin

Looking forward to part 3.

Expand full comment
Reply
1 reply by Mark Starlin
V. C. Ackerman
Jan 25

Luna - Weird and awesome! It means either the Americans were very busy on the moon, or aliens with bad memories wanted to remember what our planet was called.

When Silence Isn’t Golden - Poor musicians.

Stranded On A Deserted Island • Part 2 - Time storms! That’s interesting. I wonder if other people from different time periods will show up on the island.

Expand full comment
Reply
1 reply by Mark Starlin
18 more comments…
TopNewCommunity

No posts

Ready for more?

© 2023 Mark Starlin
Privacy ∙ Terms ∙ Collection notice
Start WritingGet the app
Substack is the home for great writing