100-Word Fiction: ‘What He Did, Where He Went, They Will Never Know’

It was a summer evening and steam rose from the warm wet rails of the train tracks and as he paced along his legs were brushed by the wet grass and blackbirds hopped and pecked for worms in the earth and everything was warm and his lungs heaved and heart pumped and head pounded.

Earlier he had typed threats, nasty words. She deserved to be scared, he thought. And the police could search but he was gone anyway, out in the wilderness of the World Wide Web, where no one ever was lost for breath, running from life itself.

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Author: mwbewick

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

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