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A Flash Fiction


It was New Years Eve and a boy climbed out of his bedroom window — I have to get away from her, he said, struggling to get his leg free of the sill.

On the patio another boy kept falling backwards, over the wall and landing in the garden below — I’m alright. You know how I feel about you.

She danced with another boy, or maybe a man, who said to her husband he was a lucky man. And she thought in another life and he said so too, at a later date.

She was inside the house and the song started, one she had never heard before and she said, this is amazing, what is this group? And a girl, who was later related, but not for the whole course of their lives, said with an air of superiority and ownership, yes, they are. Later that girl fell asleep on the toilet. She had a habit of doing so.

Then she lay in the springy grass in the dark backyard and watched the stars swimming overhead, the music and lights just slightly hushed by the barrier of space and concrete wall and dimmed senses and felt the weight of so many revelations, when all she’d wanted was to have a nice time.