I was told that water has memory. I can believe it. I think of how a drop – the cold moisture of a cloud, somewhere a continent away – might precipitate itself upon an azure sea. That it might get pulled this way and that, become submerged, forgotten, embroiled in the waves and the churnContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Water Memory’”
Tag Archives: 100
100-Word Fiction: ‘The Suffocating City’
Choking from the tree pollen and the blanket of smog that had blown in from across the sea and the dust that had risen from the roads after the fires of the previous week. The atmosphere was unbreathable. Slowly jogging through the drag of streets from west to east was a chore for the chest.Continue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘The Suffocating City’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘The Elected Time of Year’
I can’t explain it in any other terms, she said, waving her hands in front of her and gesturing at the trees. I can’t read the papers any more. I can’t watch TV. I know what’s coming. It’s like this every time. Whoever wins out, it will be the same. We’ve still a month toContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘The Elected Time of Year’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Plenty’
Trains backing up into Surrey and the onslaught of the crush at the barriers. A roadside reek of last night’s piss and the morning’s nicotine and bleach. A man laughs into his hand. A woman switches to flats. The freesheets are a coconut shy. Two shots please. I like my coffee very strong. I couldn’tContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Plenty’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘The Disappeared’
With one small bag and no note he became the next of the disappeared. He was seventeen. They searched for him on maps but the maps were empty and sand covered them. They searched for him across websites but found only redacted rhetoric. He was gone. And he was gone before he was gone. TheContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘The Disappeared’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘A Week in Pictures’
He stands in the empty doorway of his roofless house. Inside is only landfill. The storm has passed. * They drive the sheep up to the mountains where they graze through the summer. The blizzard continues. * They came to the streets to protest about land reforms and were met by police. The water cannonsContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘A Week in Pictures’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Sequences’
First it was what was written. She will not look, she will not look. And get out of this city but once and for all. Yet where, where? Then it was what was done in response. Fleeing from the people who are everywhere, into their arms, out from their arms, delivered, how, how? Then cameContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Sequences’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Tomorrow’
The air conditioning blows against the office cold while the mice scuttle in the dust of the ducts. The flagpoles of opposing buildings are wrapped tight with their blind standards. A solitary gull circles above the white towers; above the dripping lights of theatreland. Cars choke the arteries all the way to the estuaries whereContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Tomorrow’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘People at Christmas’
I don’t always see the difference between children and adults. Rather, I don’t see adults, only children. Children everywhere, shopping with pushchairs, snoring in suits on morning trains, smoking outside bars of an evening: children all. I see them now with tinsel and antlers on their heads, Santa hats, stressing about the last days atContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘People at Christmas’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Those Who Got Out’
They fell into the light of the streets from behind the flag and the window logos the smell of roasted coffee beans never to be smelled again with outstretched arms like elated and some fast some slow and some hobbling some skipping like no one could remember how to walk faces all contorted like expressingContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Those Who Got Out’”
MW Bewick 