From the sand. From the swiping of palms on commuter runs. From the tossed-off free-sheets. From the grinding trucks on dirt tracks. From the furnace hulls and eyes and mouths of salt. From the white hunchbacked desks. From the discounted cocktails and vapid pavements. From the tortuous late-night news-talk. From the canvas cells with tornContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Please Help Us’”
Tag Archives: Libya
100-Word Fiction: ‘Water Memory’
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’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘A Raft for the Medusa’
A decade’s unreported anarchy brings blood and dust, charted in numberless rusted cells where violence tells and torture proves. They flee across the desert by truck, in the hands and debt of gangs, to make border disappearances. In Libya and Yemen the smuggled bodies pay for thieved papers with degraded favours. Honours are all lost.Continue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘A Raft for the Medusa’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Effluent’
‘Pipes’ connect countless channels of overflow from East to West, Agencies say. Politicians have dubbed it a ‘super sewer’ and ‘filtrations’ are due to commence – the cost already upwards of £400m. A communication from a group calling itself Stop the Shaft claimed, using Securities language, that the channels were only responsible for a tinyContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Effluent’”
100-Word Fiction: Gone, but
Johnny had grown to love that old dog. After the yapping stopped, when it was no longer such a keen and overbearing puppy, when its occasional mistimed bark seemed endearing, some kind of grudging trust had been formed between them. Then, the dog went missing. Rumours were that another snarling hound chased it straight outContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: Gone, but”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Red Thread’
Was there a time before the freedoms that still endure, before the storms that swept the sands, where what we watched unfold bore some resemblance to reality? Once, I think, after the first of the degradations had been suffered, we still imagined the aimless orbit of missiles around the void of an ethical centre. NotContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Red Thread’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Moomer’s Tent’
Moomer believed that happiness came in small things. If you couldn’t lift it yourself, then it was too unwieldy, too weighty. You should be able to pack happiness into a rucksack. But happiness was also infinite. The hills were happiness and you couldn’t lift them. Moomer packed his tent into a rucksack and walked forContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Moomer’s Tent’”
MW Bewick 