Your Titanic Friend is here - A new short story for you!

A friend of mine previously introduced on this website, John O'Donnell has given a go at the third "Built your platform campaign" challenge. Just because the challenge is over, doesn't mean anybody shouldn't have fun with it and that's how he came to write this piece. 

So to the new readers of this blog, here was the challenge requirement again:

Write a blog post in 300 words or less ✔, excluding the title. The post can be in any format, whether flash fiction ✔, non-fiction, humorous blog musings, poem, etc. The blog post should show:

• That it’s morning ✔

• That a man or a woman (or both) is at the beach ✔

• That the MC (main character) is bored ✔

• That something stinks behind where he/she is sitting ✔

• That something surprising happens. ✔

Just for fun, see if you can involve all five senses ✔ AND include these random words: "synbatec ✔," "wastopaneer ✔," and "tacise ✔."  (NB. these words are completely made up and are not intended to have any meaning other than the one you give them).

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your Titanic Friend is here.

The sun rose slowly above the methane sea, lighting up the sky in brilliant tacise - a pinkish-yellow hue unknown on earth but so common on Titan so that a new word had to be invented for it. Miller had now been waiting on the rocky beach for over two days and was so bored that the sights and sounds of Titan no longer moved him. The odour of his own sweat permeated his spacesuit, so much so that each breath he took made him retch, leaving a horrible taste in his throat.

Then something different about the smell, that seemed to emanate from behind him, restored him to full alertness. He first fear was that his Synbatec spacesuit has begun to leak, allowing some of Titan’s toxic atmosphere into his breathing system. Why the hell couldn’t Space Corps afford a better make of suit?  They were always cutting corners in an attempt to save a few credits.  But this smell was strangely familiar, it was the smell of burning meat.

Then came a much greater surprise, surprising because it was impossible – he felt someone, some-thing touch his back. He swung around but saw nothing. It was doubly impossible because he had felt the touch directly on his skin even though he was encased in the thick layers of his spacesuit.

Then a crazy thought entered his mind. Could it be a Wastopaneer? He had never believed that this creature existed  - a being that could communicate directly with another living creature through any of the five senses.

He then remembered why he didn’t believe in the Wastopaneer. It was said that nobody that encountered it lived to tell the tale. If this was so how did anyone know about it? This was his last thought.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Any opinion of this piece will be welcome.