The bay had been a busy lumber port a century earlier, but had lost most of its traffic when cheaper timber material became available elsewhere; after the hydroelectric dam was built a mile upstream, the shoreline had receded too far for the bay to have any seafaring value. A single beam from a loading dock beam was the sole relic of that era. Suspended far the new shoreline, decades of fungal detritus dangled from its sides like icicles. On mornings after a long summer rain, its damp weathered features seemed ready for the arrival of ships from its forgotten past.
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly flash fiction contest which challenges you to write a complete story of up to 100 words based on a photo prompt. I cheated a little bit this time, as the bay in the photo looks to be on the ocean rather than a river, but what’s the fun in always playing by the rules?