100-Word Fiction: ‘Waiting for the Train’

On the platform, lighting up a cigarette, loosening his tie just a little, looking at the commuters, wondering about their lives. Their lives and his job, these two things that had somehow got themselves entwined. And yet when he’d left college, with those ideas… so determined, so green.

Inhale, hold, exhale. There was ivy weaving round the railings and climbing up the blackthorn, across the end of the station car park and all down the line. That plant could grow anywhere. A pest, people said. Needs cutting back. A good hacking. You’d need to hack for ever and for ever.

100-Word Fiction: ‘6 May 2010’

A light aircraft just dropped out of the sky, enmeshed, literally, in its own trail of propaganda. Over our own heads are helicopters and, down in the square below, hundreds of office workers have congregated for a fire drill.

We are booking my birthday meal and discussing people’s relationships: how friends are feeling; what might happen in future.

I have made an Earl Grey tea with an out-of-date tea bag. Now it’s back to work.

The sun is out. Tonight we will drink.

Things go up. Things come down. It’s how they land that counts; the state we’re all in.