I try to shut the thoughts away but the words he says prise open my every defence. I can’t not hear it. He talks about his life, his friends, the plans we’ve made, the things we’ve achieved, places we’ve been. He talks about his grandmother, about my own family history. He claims he’s talked toContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘How He’s Talked Lately’”
Tag Archives: british
100-Word Fiction: ‘The Red Dust’
The red dust came from desert skies sanded the paper and screens of the press caught in the eyes of conspiracy freaks piled up the stress of Western dreams grazed the feet of measured prose stormed the sounds of drum and song covered the rows of memorial crosses and all their long-remembered losses tickled theContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘The Red Dust’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Until They are Gone’
Sssshhh, said Jackie, sssshhh, listen. Pete stopped still. Silence. Jackie beckoned. How brown the woods looked: the conifers dulled in the late afternoon light, the ground muddy after the rain. Jackie was pointing, his face contorted into an expression – half delight, half anguish. Pete shook his head and whispered: What? There! Listen! Silence. ThenContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Until They are Gone’”
MW Bewick 