100-Word Fiction: ‘Erawan’

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, injuries to laborers, and the loss of a shipload of Italian marble intended for the building. Furthermore, the Ratchaprasong intersection had once been used to put criminals on public display.’ ?

A cloth-wrapped pipe. Worshippers. A street full of tourists. Anti-government. Blood and chaos. Hospitals overburdened.

25. 

100-Word Fiction: ‘Where Oceans Meet’

At the place where two oceans meet a white foam forms a rough line on the surface. We encounter light and dark, warm and cold.

Outside the hotel room the sky was grey. On the TV the skies were all blue. Microphones were pointed towards a grimacing face. In the corridor, staff brought room service to guests. I washed and changed my shirt.

In the hospital machines were wheeled out. Condolences were offered. At the airport where families rushed in the engines blared.

The correspondent says critical but stable.

I would come to think of this as a sea change.

100-Word Fiction: Girl Meets Boy

The young girl ran out of the hotel in tears. Her family thought it was a good job, prestigious. She earned little, like all the immigrant workers, and hoped for tips she could split between the family fund and a Friday night out. Chambermaids were suspended from work all the time, said the cleansing manager. The girl’s case was no different except in one respect. High spirits and regret were the words used. And the old man watched and dictated terms to his lawyers. He had developed a twitch, rubbed his eyes. That cow. Who was she to make accusations?

100-Word Fiction: ‘A Week In the Sun’

Sunshine. I could cry when I think about it. In January, when the rain teems down and those mornings are so dark, I want sunshine, no less.

Have you got any holidays planned? asks a colleague.

To know that you deserve a break, a week or two in the sun. How long to go?

Maybe even a winter break for some immediate warmth. A poolside and palm trees, southern Med, with a distant call to prayer. Locals in the streets – and a Frenchman, taking photos, killed by a canister of teargas. More than 100 dead. They call it ‘unrest’. Tears.