Drabbles

Two pieces of 100 word fiction, one light-hearted, one miserable, originally published on Indie Book Bargains back in December. Have a look at the site if you'd like recommendations for cheap, independently-published books.

 The question

 We stood there in silence for a few moments, staring at the grey, dirty water of the river. Each deep in thought, wondering if it was time to ask the question. If it was too soon, too outrageous. If it would cause excitement and delight, or discomfort and uncertainty. Did we really know each other well enough? The tension became unbearable. I took a deep breath, turned, and just as I was about to open my mouth he said “Do you want to hire a pedalo?” I smiled, nodded, and off we went.

What will we do when all the engineers have gone and we are left with a country full of advertising executives?

A man named Rodney, in a flat cap and boiler suit, with a bulbous nose. Old, rugged and calloused, face crossed with a gentle smile. Grease under his fingernails, creases around his eyes. Joints swollen with arthritis, but still moving skilfully over levers, pushing and pulling with practised not-quite-ease. He works the crane. Like his father before him. He used to unload cargo; now he just shows it off to tourists. He doesn’t mind though, he simply enjoys the work, the being one with the machine. He’ll be dead soon. And the crane will turn to rust.