Notches on the Wall

Flash Fiction I have lost count of the days that I have been here. They are just notch marks on the branches that make the walls of the hut I built. And I built that a fair few notches ago. The only life I have seen in all that time has been seagulls and fish and they don’t say much.

The Crossing – Caution

Even months after escaping the grip of the System and finding freedom I cannot quite get used to being able speak freely and without fear. Even the simple act of writing my journals would have found me put before a firing squad. Expressing the truth or an opinion carried an automatic death sentence. They could not stop the mind from thinking though.

The Crossing – Tatters and Ruins

Arina had a fondness for visiting historic buildings. Once or twice I had been with her and wandered round unused rooms arranged in a set period from the past. It intrigued me listening to Arina explain the details of the people who had lived there in the distant past. This time was different.

The Deterrent

Every day, twice a day, I would ride past the Nightstone Work Camp. Every day, twice a day, I would be haunted by the gaunt staring faces of young men and women, old age didn’t happen in the camps. Visceral faces desperately waiting to die. Survival was pointless they would never get out. This was … Continue reading The Deterrent

Alone

I awoke sprawled across some bushes. All I could feel was a deep throbbing pain in my left leg. The springy twigs held on to me like vines and I gave up trying to sit up. Instead, I rolled and landed on the cold muddy ground. As I opened his eyes all I could see … Continue reading Alone