“I need to show you something.”
He led me through the screen door, around the barn, down a slope with slabs of limestone set into the hill, and along a narrow path winding through a thick stand of beech.
When we finally broke through the last of the trees I felt the wind, saw the circling sea hawk, and tasted the fear of the sudden drop as the ground disappeared before us.
A hollow feeling shot through my stomach and legs.
We stood on a cliff overlooking a bay of dark water surrounded by steep cliffs slanting toward the afternoon sun.
“Do you see that little fishing hut down there?”
When I strained I could make out a little two-door, two-window house with a light blue roof, possibly metal.
“You can live in that hut. Fish from the shore. Drink water from the spring behind the hut. Build a garden. Everything you need to get away … to rest … to live a simple life.”
Something in me stirred.
“A few. A fisherman may come into this bay. Trappers may come down to fish. But people just like you. People who understand you and where you came from.”
I was hooked.
I imagined climbing cliffs every morning, writing in the afternoon. During the summer I could swim in the bay and sleep under a blanket of bright stars at night. In the winter I could trap beaver and dog sled through the forest.
“What’s the cost?”
He smiled. “A dollar a day?”
I let out a deep breath. “So, what’s the hitch?”
He shrugged. “It’s haunted.”
This short story illustrates two important copywriting concepts. What are they? See the answer here.
Image source: Fishing hut on Isla Del Sol in Lake Titicaca