100-Word Fiction: ‘The View From Here’

He was looking over the treetops, across the plains. The view from the roof was incredible. It was evening and everywhere was bathed with a brownish hue. He wanted to stay up there for ever. Let it rain; he didn’t care. The kids were asleep in the corner, covered by a blanket of plastic sheeting. Somewhere down in the brown was the rest of his family. When he last saw his uncle a week ago, the old man was clinging to a post as the torrents tried to drag him under. Now the birds were singing again. God was everywhere.

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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