They were fighting again.
Derek could read his mother’s moods like a seasoned meteorologist and something had happened while he’d sat on the precipice and sketched for the past hour.
Mom’d showed up, arms folded, mouth taut. “We’re going back to the ship. Now.”
Dad was all false cheer on the drive back to the boat, sneaking sips from the silver flask he kept in the front pocket of his Bermudas and going on about Napoleon and what a treat it was to finally see such a historical sight.
At the harbour store stop, she returned with a bottle of gin.
“Looks like someone means to have fun,” Dad said; the chuckle that followed rang hollow.
She shot him a dark look before turning to Derek. “Someone seems to think this trip isn’t fun at all.”
Derek looked down. It wasn’t, if you wanted to get all honest about it.
This has been an edition of What Pegman Saw. My apologies to the people in this photo. Not sure why it inspired this sad family drama, but it truly had nothing to do with them.
To read more stories inspired by the prompt, click here.