First Draft

This story is the combination of two writing exercises:
1. Write 3 connecting scenes from the point of view of three different people.
2. Write a story beginning with the words "the end" and ending with the words "the beginning".

This is more or less an outline. I intend the final story to be longer and have much more description, and perhaps more dialogue.

“The End!” screamed the newspaper headlines – for it was the end for the tiny pacific island. The rising seawaters were already encroaching upon the homes of the island’s people.

The island’s people had lived for hundreds of years in much the same way – fishing and growing their own food, and making their homes from what the island supplied. That way of life was over.

Keeping a watchful eye on her two children, the woman packed her belongings. For a moment the sadness and fear overwhelmed her and tears flowed down her cheeks.

At the end of the village she could see the men who had come to take them to their new home. An evacuation, they’d called it. She could not imagine the life that awaited her. In a strange new country. For her, it was an uneasy beginning.

It was the end for this island, the soldier knew, but not for its people. Soon he and his fellows would assist them to the ship and they would be traveling to their new country, and their new homes.

He knew many of the people were unhappy about their resettlement, but what choice did they have? Grief was understandable. Once they were used to their new lives, he believed they would be happy. He looked around him. Here they had very little: bamboo huts, very few possessions, and many were not literate much less educated. So much awaited them in their wealthy new country that he knew they could not yet comprehend.

He watched a woman crying as she packed her meager possessions. He felt compassion for her, but he wished he could see the smile on her face when she finally accepted her new life.

“Sir, we have a problem.” One of his men pointed to an old man sitting cross legged by the beach. “He says he won’t leave.”

“Well, we can’t force him. We’ll just have to convince him.”

“Perhaps he just doesn’t understand that he’ll die if he stays here.”

The soldier confidently strode towards the old man. He was sure he could convince him to accept their bright new beginning.

It was the end for him, the old man knew, as well as for the island. He was the island’s oldest inhabitant and it was fitting for him to remain and die along with it.

He sat cross-legged watching the waves gently rush against the sand. The young man who had argued with him simply did not understand. Neither did the young folk of the island. The island would sink under the sea. Nothing anyone could do would prevent this. He knew that it is the nature of the world to change. Nothing is eternal.

The sea-breeze was soothing as he closed his eyes and imagined the future.

The island will not remain an island. The sea creatures will make it their home, burrowing into the remains of the trees and huts until they rot away and only a reef remains. Perhaps he too will become part of the reef. Fish will swim above, like flocks of birds once did. The ships will sail over, the sailors never realising what had once lain under them.

For all this, it was just the beginning.