100-Word Fiction: ‘The 1970s’

Four candles. A whisp of sulphur, a spark and her gleaming eyes.

Happy birthday to you.

Paul, come on, sit, you’ll have your cake soon.

Victoria was still singing, hugging the back of the dining chair, her cheeks red and glasses wonky.

After three. One, two, three. Dawn puffed out her cheeks, blew hard and clapped excitedly.

Paul slipped under the table, round the sideboard and into the porch. The door was open.

He sat on the step and let a tiny spider crawl onto his forefinger, then crushed it with his thumb.

He wanted a be a grownup now.

Advertisements

Author: mwbewick

MW Bewick is a writer, journalist and musician, based in Wivenhoe and sometimes London. He is one half of Dunlin Press.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s