100-Word Fiction: ‘In the Night’

I waded to the middle of the river and was swept along, searching, searching. I was high in the air but tumbling downward trying to catch you. I stared at the screen until my eyes were dry and sore. I ran down the street pushing past shoppers, over and over. I shouted, screamed, shouted. I turned the key in the lock but the lock fell to the ground so I picked it up and it fell to the ground again and again. Every time I asked for peace a clock clanged the hour. Every time I saw you I awoke.

100-Word Fiction: ‘Trajectories’

A clear blue sky and two planes crossing it, one after the other, perhaps too close, turning southerly.

As is often, here, at this time, there is talk of politics. Governments this, ministers that, history and security, links to conspiracies.

An older man and a younger man are looking skyward, standing, waiting. One holds a phone, the other a book. Concrete under their feet; jackets zipped, hands gloved; scarves.

“One things leads to another: that’s world events.”

They stand silently, as if alone, fixed upon the planes and their trajectories; one following the other, hoping they are not too close.

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I have made an Earl Grey tea with an out-of-date tea bag.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.