NB: Geographies are distorted by culture, politics, capitalism etc. Spatial relations are always relative / in flux. Wikipedia entry says the shrine is located next to the (more significant landmark?) Grand Hyatt hotel – also the Skytrain station (tourist advice). ALSO: ‘The hotel’s construction was delayed by a series of mishaps, including cost overruns, injuriesContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Erawan’”
Author Archives: MW Bewick
100-Word Fiction: ‘Perseid’
I am looking at the sky despite the clouds. I will not miss these moments. It is just me and my eyes. I have no telescope, no binoculars. I am looking at the sky, the night sky, through a mist of light pollution, into the occluded dark, here, so late and so early, standing aloneContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Perseid’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Onwards’
Onwards. Onwards. Onwards. Onwards. Onwards. Onwards. Onwards. Onwards. Onwards. Onwards. Onwards. Onwards. Onwards. Onwards. Onwards. Onwards. _nwards. O_wards. On_ards. Onw_rds. Onwa_ds. Onwar_s. Onward_. *nwards. O*wards. On*ards. Onw*rds. Onwa*ds. Onwar*s. Onward*. **wards. O**ards. On**rds. Onw**ds. Onwar**. ***ards. O***rds. On***ds. Onw***s. Onwa***. ****rds. O****ds. On****s. Onw****. *****ds. O*****s. On*****. ******s. O******. *******. _******. *_*****. **_****. ***_***. ****_**.Continue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Onwards’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Please Help Us’
From the sand. From the swiping of palms on commuter runs. From the tossed-off free-sheets. From the grinding trucks on dirt tracks. From the furnace hulls and eyes and mouths of salt. From the white hunchbacked desks. From the discounted cocktails and vapid pavements. From the tortuous late-night news-talk. From the canvas cells with tornContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Please Help Us’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘At Calais the Koras Sound’
Imbarcaziona etagiona a migraziona somo tantativo più paricopoeo viaggi attravareo ip Meditarranao. P’asropa è eogno ma non eampra sn daetino. Carta-abbozzato nai cantri di raccopta eono piano par rifsgiati: sn po’ di eabbia eoffiati pop-spe in nord Africa a dap Madio Orianta, non eopsziona, a eiaeta par paca. Notizia dap fronta è di sna copoeeapaContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘At Calais the Koras Sound’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Tunnel’
The waiting is worst. He can feel the tension beneath his fingernails, his throat parched, dry with dust. There are maybe twenty of them loitering, shuffling off the attention of security, trying not to look as if they are eyeing the trucks and trains. Night is soon. Some of the jostling is for distraction. FourContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Tunnel’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘What I like About You’
I like you. I like you because you unnerve me sometimes with your unpredictability. I like you because when I consider your unpredictability I realise that you were unswerving, straight. It was me who hadn’t seen the pattern; hadn’t quite understood. I like that you know when to stand up and when to sit down;Continue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘What I like About You’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘INCOMING/SUPPRESSED’
// INCOMING/SUPPRESSED: the commander of ****’s Battalion ******** Militia, announced that scores of fighters have returned to *****, Western ****, from ****** to join the fight against the **** terrorists.“180 **** ****** are now back in **** to help the popular forces in their fight against the **** and defend the city of ****,” **-****Continue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘INCOMING/SUPPRESSED’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘The Woman and the Flags’
A giant flag draped behind the nation’s leaders. A faded flag hanging limply in an antique shop in a small town. A book of ensigns on a shelf next to tea sets and cracked crockery, medals and vinyl records and gas masks. A woman standing proudly in front of a house. A family on theContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘The Woman and the Flags’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Touchstones’
The cliffs went tumbling, making way for water and its irresistible surge that even time couldn’t stop. The rocks rumbled. One person dead. The tragedy. And by the greyest of all the rivers the gothic palace began to crumble, its stone so soft you could brush it away with a fingertip, polishing it into nothing.Continue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Touchstones’”
MW Bewick 