Vignette (7)

the ground is still hot to the touch, ivy burnt off the exterior walls and red bricking now scorch-black and gray. this was her doing, her playing at being the mad wife shut up in the attic without ever thinking about how to pull it off. curtains have been torn from the window-rail, flung out the window… Continue reading Vignette (7)

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Vignette (6)

A young woman is hunched over her computer. She alternates between taking her headphones off and slipping them on. There's an open Word document and she types fast, so fast that errors litter the page, a veritable written battleground. Squiggly red lines and littler green lines are everywhere. She doesn't pause to run corrections. Instead,… Continue reading Vignette (6)

Vignette (4)

There's a house-cafe on the street corner. It's incongruously placed in the middle of the city,  where you expect to find tall office buildings and functional apartment blocks - not so much a two-storey house with a front yard and parking space. In front, in the yard is a mini-cart. It's not unlike a street cart,… Continue reading Vignette (4)

Vignette (3)

Note: I spy a lot of things while on the bus. It's a run-of-the-mill Wednesday. Nothing stands out especially clearly: sometimes the bus is packed to capacity, but right now it's not and we're zooming towards the station where people will transfer to trains. In the background, at every stop, I can hear the driver… Continue reading Vignette (3)

Vignette (2)

The shop is tiny, the very definition of a hole-in-the wall - at least, assuming there is a wall. People huddle together, each staring at a smartphone or with headphones on. They're all waiting for their turn to order a coffee, and they pay quickly. The outside of the store is very plain, advertising coffee and… Continue reading Vignette (2)

Vignette (1)

It's 7:34 and the bus is making good time. My shift starts in an hour, and this little village is just beginning to wake up to the morning slog. You wouldn't expect to find a village-style place in the midst of a city, but it is here. Red light. First one in at least ten… Continue reading Vignette (1)

Vignettes

Flash Fiction July, 2. It's been a cold morning, and it's barely 7am. The bus is so warm; my eyelids are too heavy to keep awake for long, and the commute has barely started. I can't resist the opportunity to close them, letting myself shut off some of my consciousness. (I have become a scene,… Continue reading Vignettes