Walter and Thor

 I have a flash fiction writing assignment this week: a story in 150 words. This is the first draft, about 650 words, which I'll slice down. My purpose in posting is to share my creative process with you.

At first, Thor thought it was a great idea to go walking on the sandbars. It was one of his favourite things to do, and they only did it when it was warm out. Today it was cold, quite cold. It had been cold for a while, Thor remembered, and he knew it would be cold for a while longer. Yet Walter launched the frolicky, squeaky yellow tennis ball onto the second sandbar and Thor raced through the tidepool and Walter followed, soaking his shoes through and his jeans to the calf. Thor didn't like the cold water all that much, but he didn't mind if he was chasing the frolicky, squeaky yellow ball. On the third sandbar, he noticed something was wrong. Walter didn't pick up the yellow ball in his green ball launcher. He was peering around, and shivering. It was misty out, and Thor could see the shore, but Walter couldn't. Thor barked at Walter and Walter looked down at him and smiled after a moment.

“Good boy,” Walter said. He picked up the ball and launched it to the fourth sandbar. Thor bounded over to the tidepool, waded till he had to swim, then swam through the seaweed. Walter was right behind him, the water past his waist. They got to the next sandbar. Now there was definitely something wrong.

“Thor... how did we get out here, Thor?”

Thor ignored the yellow ball and barked at Walter, concerned, confused. They were both confused.

“Which way is home, Thor? I want to go home. I'm cold.”

Thor barked, then waded back into the tidepool they had just emerged from. After a few yards he looked back at Walter. Walter was hesitating.

“Okay. I trust you,” Walter said, and he followed.

They emerged onto the next sandbar. Walter was hugging himself; his breathing was shallow. Thor ran around him, shaking the water from his fur, barking as much and as loudly as he could. They were on the third sandbar again and now even Thor couldn't see the wall that marked the end of the beach. He headed towards the second tidepool.

“I'm cold, Thor, so cold. Why am I wet? Why are we out here?”

Thor barked. His bark said: Come on, please, let's go home. This way, Walter.

“Okay,” Walter said again. “I trust you.”

On the second sandbar, Walter sat down. The tide was coming in. The sandbar was getting smaller. Thor barked loudly towards the shore, which he still could not see. Then he nuzzled up to Walter and put his head on his shoulder and his look said: I love you. Please trust me. Then he barked at Walter and Walter heaved himself to his feet and tottered for a moment. He looked down at Thor and he said:

“Okay. I trust you. Where are we going?”

Another man walked out of the mists. His jeans were soaked up past the knee. He saw Thor and Walter and how confused Walter looked, and how he shivered.

“C'mon,” the man said, and held out a hand. “This way.”

“Who are you?” Walter asked suspiciously.

“I'm Samuel,” the man said patiently, soothingly, as though to a small child. “My name is Samuel. Your's is Walter. I'm your son.”

“Okay,” said Walter. “I trust you.” And he took Samuel's hand.

Back in the cabin Samuel helped Walter undress. He filled a bath with hot water and turned on the heaters and as Walter soaked he called his sister and paced around the small cabin living room. Thor lay on the couch and watched Samuel pace; he worried about Walter. He knew there was something wrong and he didn't know what to do.