TGV

She sat lost in thought twisting the ring round and round on her finger. As the train cut decisively though the French landscape she wondered, "Am I a fool?"

Meanwhile, an artist, young, decidedly rakish, packed away his brushes - left the station. The train it seemed was heading for disaster.

(50)


Second Sight

4am. Gales. The dying hours. Kenny Morrison dreams his son is out of breath. 5am. Sinking. An alsatian howls. One fisherman cannot hear the sea.

(this one was originally a short-micro story of 150 characters - longer now)

miffle

The Last Word.

Succinct, always to the point, slow to anger, he and I were complete opposites. 'Don't do it,' he said, 'you'll only live to regret it.'

I should have listened, he was usually right, and this time was no exception.

I am sorry now he's dead, and it's not much fun being shut up in here.

Fifty-five seconds to go! Now there is only forty-seven. They said it would only take a minute, and then... Thirty-five second left, it will never work. Couldn't possibly. And yet, perhaps. Yes, one-minute noodles, ready to eat in just one minute, that is if you don't count the time it takes to boil the water.

oh yes - I enjoyed that very much - lovely twist at the end!