100-Word Fiction: ‘We Went For a Pizza’

I’m not a racist,
Said the waiter.
It’s just I think
That you won’t pay.
I know your sort;
I’ve seen your kind before.

Your kind? Your kind?

You know what I mean.
With your clothes
And your hair
And the way that you are.
You’re not to be trusted;
That’s what I think.

I read it in the tabloids,
Saw it on TV –
There were some kids
On Eastenders –
You look like them to me.

You’re here to cause trouble,
And I’m happy to believe it.
And I’m white.
And I’m a manager.
And there’s nothing you can do.

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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