The Slitheree Dee Ain't Got Shit on Me

The sun slowly drowned in the bloody red sky...

Kelcey O'Reilly and Pete Wilshire were sitting in a motor boat. It moved swiftly on the water. Kelcey was smoking a Pall Mall. Pete had curly orange hair.

"We've been circling this lake for hours," Pete yelled over the engine, "We can barely see anything now. Do you really think you're gonna find anything."

Kelcey heard him. But didn't respond. He was the captain of his motor boat. The captain of the SS Baha. And he would not take shit from anyone.

"I say we call it a night and take the boat back to shore," Pete said with his hand on Kelcey's shoulder. "We can come out first thing in the morning."

"Fuck, Pete. You know that the only people who decide when this boat goes to shore are the O'Reilly men." Kelcey inhaled Pall Mall smoke, "And now, I'm the sole O'Reilly man. So sit the hell down."

Pete sat down.

The boat skimmed the water for five minutes.

Waves began to rock the SS Baha.

Pete quickly stood up and pointed, "Kelcey... look..."

"I know."

The creature was 200 meters away from the motor boat. Bobbing up and down in the water. Waves ensued.

"Pete, hand me the seal bombs."

"What seal bombs."

Kelcey turned around. Looked at Pete, "Did you bring the seal bombs."

Pete looked around the 4 meter long motor boat, "Ummm... actually... no."

The SS Baha turned around and returned to shore. The creature returned to the dreary depths from which it emerged.

... The sun was slowly swallowed by Lake Loch Ness. It wasn't powerful enough to prevent it's fate, and the world at once became dark.

Thursdays

Thursdays always seemed to be especially hot. The lifeguard at the corner of the deep end sat in her white chair and seemed to be watching the little children play in the water. She picked at the stubble growing on her legs and wondered if any one else could see. She was self conscious on Thursdays. That's when Shane and her shifts over lapped. She had Monday to Thursday and he had Thursday to Sunday. She always hoped that when Monday morning came around she might find something he left behind and return it to him that Thursday, but that day never came and Thursdays always started with the all too familiar colleague salute. Something that at times left her feeling emptier than if they just didn't acknowledge each other at all.
She felt guilty for not doing her job, but accidents at the pool hardly ever occurred. Instead she spent most of the day watching Shane. With dark sunglasses it was an easy thing to do. She would turn her face to the pool, scan around occasionally, but always keep her eyes trained on him. She enjoyed watching his every move and made a sort of game out of it. How often he would shift in his chair, why he scratched his arm, when he would wet his lips and where he was looking, but never thinking that he was doing the same.