100-Word Fiction: ‘I Do Not Wish’

I do not wish to speak ill of life while I see her drying her hair and the coffee tastes so good. Outside the sky is winter-cold but clear and the buildings go up and up, all across the city. Last night, when we left the cinema and crossed the river, watching the tourist barges and all the lights along the banks, we knew we were lucky. I do not wish to speak ill. But then the radio scared us – and the heavens shuddered and the earth cracked and fell away. I do not wish, I do not wish.

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

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