No. There is a tightening in my chest. Something is wrong. My brother’s frail arm disappears into the dark. I step back and pin myself to the wall. Some voices are shouting from the rooftops – then a whistling sound, like a mechanical scream – it comes. The billowing dust – three streets away –Continue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘A Crossing (3)’”
Tag Archives: MW Bewick
100-Word Fiction: ‘A Crossing (2)’
The street is empty. There is no petrol for cars anyway. Across the street my brother waits, his head peeking round a doorway, ushering come, come. I see the whites of his eyes but can’t tell whether he is pleased to see me, or scared, petrified. The rule is that if you leave and returnContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘A Crossing (2)’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘A Crossing (1)’
The food is ready: vegetables and chicken, cous cous. Mint tea. Auntie is still taking the washing down from the line and the children are playing with a ball and a stick. I am hungry too. It was an early start this morning, avoiding any trouble on my way to get sugar, just after light.Continue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘A Crossing (1)’”
100Word Fiction: ‘They Came Here’
The world is painted black and red. It runs down the walls and across the dusty floors. They came here. I tell the man. They came here, can you not see? Are you colour blind? Look at the walls. You can touch them now, go on, get it on your fingers. They have dried ofContinue reading “100Word Fiction: ‘They Came Here’”
100-Word Fiction: International Day for Biodiversity
It is the international day for biodiversity and the ants are back in their colony; the dust mites sleep still; a shoal of mackerel flashes by; lions yawn; a lone curlew prods the shoreline with its bill; cows head towards the gate; a sheep chews dry grass on a high promontary; the bats hang tillContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: International Day for Biodiversity”
100-Word Fiction: ‘The Rains of the Spring’
The rains of spring have lasted a year. I hear that in some areas now there are only showers, or perhaps someone said light drizzle. It was always too optimistic to think the rains were seasonal. It would take a decade of downpours to drench this scorched earth. But the rains come and come: waveContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘The Rains of the Spring’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘A Dowry’
Their little hands reaching out into the sunlight and clear Clutching scrunches of silver and white, like crumpled tenners, scores – Unfolding the mottos of fortune cookies, notes of remembrance, promises Made one to another, they to us, winter to summer. The first gesture of the year is an embrace changing Studded green to garlandsContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘A Dowry’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘A Feast’
On the polished table was a huge salmon; bowls of spring vegetable soup; Scotch eggs; asparagus and hams; potatoes from Majorca; goat’s cheese tartlets; prawns with caviar; pea-shoot jellies; scallops with spiced cauliflower puree; roast chickens and guinea fowl; confit duck; sherbets and ices; five kinds of trifle; a tower of profiteroles and more cheesesContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘A Feast’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘By the Pond’
What a sad old duck it was paddling round the pond. Was it a mallard? Ducks had names – there were all kinds. Short little things the size of a tennis ball or others with long necks, elegant, with all different colours. Oh ducks could be sleek, really dapper, dressed up for dinner like. ThatContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘By the Pond’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘If the World Was a Little Different’
At first it happened slowly, blistering the skyline and the dusty roadside only occasionally. People turned to look, crying out. But soon, more and more little outbursts came, a ceaseless bombardment, and the city became quickly transformed. The past was forgotten. There were little explosions of colour all across Homs, cherry blossom firing spring intoContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘If the World Was a Little Different’”
MW Bewick 