There will be no clichés. No morning light, no birds singing, no greening of the year. This is no bildungsroman. We learn nothing. We will repeat the same mistakes because we have the same hopes and the same fears and we continue to lack the facility to contend. We are compromised by ourselves and othersContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Stasis’”
Tag Archives: MW Bewick
100-Word Fiction: ‘Down the Lonning’
– What are the white flowers in the grass? – Cow parsley, said John. – No, no, Alex starkly corrected him: it’s Queen Anne’s Lace. She held his stare. He turned around and started down the lonning. – Maybe May flower, something, he said. – What was that? – Nothing. Nothing. Jack ran up toContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Down the Lonning’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Snowblind’
She was running through snowflakes. He always told her to take care, don’t slip, keep her gloves on, wear a hat, knowing how paranoid he sounded and how much he felt like his own father. The moment made him anxious, frustrated and sad. She just smiled and ran off up the hill. Look at herContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Snowblind’”
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: ‘The Suffocating City’
Choking from the tree pollen and the blanket of smog that had blown in from across the sea and the dust that had risen from the roads after the fires of the previous week. The atmosphere was unbreathable. Slowly jogging through the drag of streets from west to east was a chore for the chest.Continue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘The Suffocating City’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘The Elected Time of Year’
I can’t explain it in any other terms, she said, waving her hands in front of her and gesturing at the trees. I can’t read the papers any more. I can’t watch TV. I know what’s coming. It’s like this every time. Whoever wins out, it will be the same. We’ve still a month toContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘The Elected Time of Year’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Plenty’
Trains backing up into Surrey and the onslaught of the crush at the barriers. A roadside reek of last night’s piss and the morning’s nicotine and bleach. A man laughs into his hand. A woman switches to flats. The freesheets are a coconut shy. Two shots please. I like my coffee very strong. I couldn’tContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Plenty’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘The Disappeared’
With one small bag and no note he became the next of the disappeared. He was seventeen. They searched for him on maps but the maps were empty and sand covered them. They searched for him across websites but found only redacted rhetoric. He was gone. And he was gone before he was gone. TheContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘The Disappeared’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘The Daffodil Girl’
She is the daffodil girl with the golden hair. She is here in the spring, telling us to slip off our winter coats. She is warmth and smiles, turning her face to the sun and the coming summer. She brings tales of childhood and hopes for the year ahead. I sometimes think the garden growsContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘The Daffodil Girl’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘After the tide’
People say it’s the smell you try to hold on to. The smell of a person. Clothes. Blankets. Cushions. After they’ve gone. Of course this is true. I’ve lived through it. What’s less noted is the way voices come and go. The first time I realised I could no longer wholly recall your voice, afterContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘After the tide’”
MW Bewick 