Fiction
(Fiction) Unbridged
A 100-word flash fiction
The street had become a gulf of typhoon water, waist deep. Uncrossable. I didn’t see the old woman slip in. I only saw her climb out half a block upstream from me, one shoe lost, her red handbag floating past my feet. I reached and caught it. She shouted something in angry Cantonese, pointing. Three years, and I still couldn’t understand. Could barely count. “I’m sorry!” I yelled, shrugging. There were no bridges. There was no way to meet. She shouted again, waved dismissively, and walked away. When I looked, the bag was empty. Nothing but muddy water pouring out.
There is a certain futility in publishing flash fiction on Medium — this probably took less than thirty seconds to read. In the beginning, I had no intention of including my fiction here. But if this site is to represent me at all, it seems a major oversight not to. I hope you enjoyed this small piece. There will be more, both long and short.
