We were trying to remember his name. Annie was finishing her wine and I had lit a cigarette; was wondering about brandy. I could hardly even picture him but Annie seemed to know. How could I forget? It was like seeing an old school photo and one of the pupils was blacked out in theContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘If Just Who He Was’”
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
MW Bewick 