H.e. Ross

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2023

Stories (44)

44 Stories

778 karma pts

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“Tijuana at Five” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #290

Words woke me and I looked up through the smell of car mustiness and petrol to a smiling moustache on a strange face. I was still curled in the darkness of the backseat and didn’t know if it had been on a long drive or if we had arrived in Mexico. I didn’t know if I was awake but I did know that we were sitting still now with the engine still vibrating. The moustache man wore dark glasses under a slouchy light brown military kind of hat with a shiny bill. I saw brown skin and a smile but he was just a blur with a background of glaring lights...

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“The First Nor'Wester” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #288

The First Nor’Wester I wanted to know more. Being around sailors most of my life I wanted to know more. The oceans have scared me and brought me to the height of ecstasy and I still wanted to know more, so I started writing stories about others’ experiences as a way of life. Collecting and experiencing and mixing the both a lot. Here, on San Sebastian Island, there was an abundance of sea tales spilling from the sun cracked mouths of old time sailors. My column in the local magazine, Islands Chronicle, was about those who those who had ...

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“The Meeting” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #286

The meeting was held at the San Sebastian National Trust Public and Private Meeting Facility Room. The sign above the door stated this and I was still a bit fuzzy in trying to put all of those words in context. The afternoon turtle hangover-remedy stuffing my insides created a lethargy that put the fluorescent lighting of the hallways into a venue that could not be on some Caribbean island but maybe somewhere in the Midwest. The night’s blackness outside the tinted windows isolated my thinking even more in mixing up my geographical fix. I ha...

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“Arrival” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #284

The Air Jamaica jet bumped its way through the mist nine hours late and most of the lights below never grew brighter. I looked incredulously upon a wonderful scene, my first and I guess most impressive of Port au Prince. There were no tall buildings visible in the darkening landscape. A mountain grew up from the sea. Streams of traffic flowed during the commute hours on several arteries. Trees everywhere softened the outline of the architecture. Small fires trailed smoke toward me. The amber of kerosene lamps in contrast with the brightness ...

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“The Black Rose A Christmas Sea Tale” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #283

This happened to me when I was a little one and I only knew the whole story when I met an old sea captain who explained how it came about. And this is how he told it to me. It was like he was there. I know I was. The storm had slowed its pace and finally broke into easy winds and slowly mounting swells. The skies were streaked with grey clouds over grey seas and all around under that was deep blue with white crests breaking but with little force. The sea was becoming a kitten once more and it was just in the nick of time. The crew were exhau...

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“Conversation with a Haitian Police Detective in 1980” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #280

The sun was setting. The trees hiding the homes of Port au Prince were half on fire half in deep green. It was hard to see the sea at sunset from the Grand Hotel Oloffson. There was a glare in the haze of dust and ever present simmer. Noise of traffic was there when thought about and not there when not. It was just too hot to complain about the noise so in Haitian fashion it was stuffed casually into its own box of non-consciousness. We were having coffee on the verandah of the Grand Hotel Oloffson in Port au Prince. Toulouse, my friend, was...

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“Seahawk” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #275

At the same time that the sea breeze hit me I saw the mountain goats on the cliff side. I stopped walking. Sand slid into my deck shoes and formed under the arch of my foot. They stood still with heads pointing toward me. I was the only moving animal that I could see on this side of the ravine. Everything was right. Just over the dune the sun was setting. I began walking again but the goats stayed still with tiny hoofs that held onto invisible platforms on the straight sheer drop of the small hillside. My attention went to my footsteps on th...

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“Greece Jazz” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #273

It was very hot. The only breeze was an occasional zephyr that teased the dust of the road. The dust would dance with twirling skirts of sad form then drop to the ground in exhaustion. On both sides slight twitches of bramble and round sage brush boringly applauded the occasional dust fandangos. The collar of my shirt rubbed my neck, breaking out sweat, then rubbing it dry. It pissed me off. I tried to wrap my handkerchief between the two but it would eventually slide one sided and that would piss me off also. I trudged alo...

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“My Bruja, Carmen” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #272

It lay across my chest like a moist log and I knew it was just her arm but it seemed to push down on me as I inhaled and made me gag. I sat up quickly as the bile rose in my throat, singeing the sides, forming bitter spots in my mouth. It was coming up and I could not breathe. My eyes searched shadows with moonlight hard against walls and still curtains. A little air, then a little more and more came, the bile subsiding, the throat relaxing. I knew I should not lay back down; that I should get up and get dressed as her words rang clearly bes...

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“Edge of the Bay” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #271

Edge of the Bay It was a beautiful San Francisco day. Created for boat, sail and sea. The breeze was starting to show a potential for anything. I smiled at pulling the main and mizzen sail covers back and folding them. Three seagulls were cawing in disagreement about something while circling the marina. The cumulous moved slowly above the distant hills across the Bay making an undulating shadow play over brown and green mounds. The Bay was crisp with wavelets and green with invitation to a go...

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“Tortle Mon” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #267

My column in the local magazine, Islands Chronicle, stirred controversy and by some was thought to be demeaning to those who had lost their lives in deep blue seas to bring home the bread in the many ways the oceans provided. It was one of those columns that quoted locals and generally went- they went out to do a little fishing but my cousin, brother, father lost his life out in devastating storms or from weapons in hostile hands. Strangely, that kind of talk died out quickly and I became a sort of hero, backed by mothers and wives, to a pro...

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“Saut d’Eau Waterfall” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #265

I had been told that Saut D’Eau is the Haitian celebration of the voudoun loas, or spirits, D’Ambala and Simbi, that takes place in a mountain oasis of a wonderful waterfall. It was a story that I could not miss. I told Davou, my photographer, about Saut d’Eau like I knew all about it. He got excited and we went, borrowing a Toyota Land Cruiser from a friend’s rental car business. He warned that he road was windy and that the falls were up, way up on a mountain. He was right. It was a lousy road and after numerous mechanical stalls because o...

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“Bolts, Rhum and the Sea” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #263

The first strike was off to port, disappearing before the corner of my eye could catch it, but its presence remained with a vague twisting thunder. The sky was hidden by a dense brooding continuing line of cloud. The horizon hid somewhere between a steel grey sea and a light grey setting of the sun somewhere West of South. Water lapped lazily alongside the hull. It passed slowly in the light airs. The sails were moist as if it were morning in the place of evening. Another crack echoed to starboard but turning I only saw monotony all ar...

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“Boone” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #259

Sound, in the true desert, is a force that catches you unawares always. In the bleakness of sand and scrub a shack adjoins a small house with two horses tied to a hitching post leaning their heads down standing aside the wall trying to stay in the shade and out of the hot mid afternoon sun. Inside, through a still, blanketed doorway and thick adobe walls is a dark room, cool by desert standards. There is a bar of thick oak planks atop a row of barrels. In front of the bar are two white cowboys in leather chaps and worn suit coats....

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“Le Carte Rouge” by H.e. Ross

Submitted to Contest #251

Rod had that stupid smile that says he knows what life is all about as he joined Angie back on the street. He shoulder bumps her to communicate something good has happened. They are on the way to the motel and away from the book store. Rod looks at Angie, holding a book at chest level.Angie gives in, ‘Okay, what is the book?’ Rod smiles broadly holding the book closer to his chest. ‘It is the book.’Angie smirks, ‘What book?’ she asks, looking both ways as they cross the street.Rod slowly shakes his head as he looks both ways while cross...

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Author bio

I am a Black San Franciscan who has been sailing for over 59 years and writing for about 30+ of those years. I have either created or assisted the creation of four maritime heritage organisations with an emphasis on African Diasporic contributions to the skills involved under sail. I have written for publications and have published two magazines, one maritime heritage book and a self-published novel. I am presently sitting on several unpublished novels, short stories and quite a bit of poetry. My partner and our two children live in Cornwall, England and I had about thirty years of living, working and sailing in the Caribbean.