A plastic blue bucket caught the breeze and there were queues at the ice cream stall. She made her way towards the pier and the promenade. The summer season hadn’t been so busy for years. She looked out to sea: a cloud was on the horizon. It looked strange and was approaching fast. Down on the beach, sunbathers began to brush their limbs as if they were wiping them clean. The cloud seemed to be falling out of the sky and onto them. It was. Then it hit her, too. It was a swarm of thousands upon thousands of ladybirds.
100-Word Fiction: ‘Cromer’
Posted byMW BewickPosted inUncategorizedTags:100, Cromer, East Anglia, Fiction, literary, literature, MW Bewick, Norfolk, story, word
Published by MW Bewick
Writer of poetry and place; editor and journalist. Co-founder of Dunlin Press. Books including Pomes Flixus, The Orphaned Spaces and Scarecrow are available from http://dunlinpress.bigcartel.com View more posts