I’m a surfer and that means… I’m a local. If you come out at my spot, I’ll paddle straight past you to the inside every time and drop in on you if you somehow get to the inside. If you ever have the temerity to complain, I’ll lecture you about respect. Experimenting with different surf-craft is kind of my thing. I always borrow my mates’ new boards. Saying, or even … [Read more...]
When the horizon goes black.. a short story by Nick Bruechle
When the horizon goes black, a short story Taken from, The Surfer Alone: A Quiver of Surf Stories·Tuesday, June 12, 2018 by Nick Bruechle You know the feeling. It’s pretty big, and you’re probably somewhere to the right of your comfort zone already, but coping. You’ve been telling yourself that fear can be conquered. That your only real enemies are hesitation and lack of … [Read more...]
The Ride… What could have happened. a short story by Nick Bruechle
The Ride What could have happened. It felt like he was flying. The wind was whipping through his hair at warp speed, and the drops of spray being torn off the face were tiny stinging bullets. The thing stood up in front of him like the blade of an impossibly wide bulldozer, steel grey-green and curling, curling, curling all down the line. Race me, it said, and Kade needed … [Read more...]
Bad Magic, a short story by Nick Bruechle
Bad Magic A story by Nick Bruechle http://nickbruechle.com/bad-magic/ Slouching into a hard, uncomfortable aluminium chair, Calem Wright clutched an overpriced Bintang and stared at the people hustling around him. Sun-burned bodies and corn-rowed hair, smiles all round and big packages containing paintings, carvings and other good, honest Bali junk – everyone was going … [Read more...]
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