Young Andrew sat beside his grandfather at a bench overlooking the bay. The “new” dock stretched into the waters, though it was already thirty years old. An animal skull impaled on a gaffing pike in the half-sunken ruins of the old dock fed the stuff of legends.
“Grandpa,” said Andrew, pointing. “Why is that skull there?”
“Oh, that’s from the good old days,” rasped Grandpa. “We used to go fishing for sea monsters.”
“Yep,” he pointed towards the skull. “We dragged one in right here. Thought it was dead, but it was just bidin’ its time. We all nearly died. It smashed up the old dock and three fishin’ boats before we killed it.”
Andrew imagined a sea monster’s body growing from the skull. “It must’ve been huge!”
“That it was.”
“Were you scared?”
“Didn’t have time. We were too busy tryin’ to stay alive!”
“So that’s the story of the skull,” mused Andrew. “It’s a sea monster!”
“That?” said Grandpa. “No, that’s a bull’s skull. We were using that for bait!”
Written for the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge.