Exercising those muscles...

Here is a short piece that I wrote in response to a competition for the first paragraph based on a picture of a stranded boat:

The storm had flung the boat onto the shore. And for that succour, I was grateful. But salvation had come too late for Julianne. She'd gone overboard when we'd nearly been sunk by a huge wave. I sat staring at her belongings. A scarf, her purse--I dare not open it, the thought of what I might find was too painful, a pair of trainers. All that remained to remind me of her.

A frisson ran down my spine as if someone had walked on my grave. I wasn't superstitious but it was as if her possessions were haunting me. I shook my head to clear it but still the feeling I was being watched remained.

"You coming?" Charlie yelled at me from the shore.

"Yeah!" I shouted back. While something held me back, I couldn't stay.

I rummaged around in one of the cupboards and found a bag. Without too much thought, I filled it with Julianne's possessions. Little did I know then what it was to mean.