There are victims of amnesia on the other side of town. The precious moments spent here are lost in the melee of development.
Why don’t you cross over to meet them?
I did, but claustrophobia drove me back.
Build something here to attract them.
I cannot stand their derision on things they don’t understand.
The sounds reverberate in the silence. When did my grandparents learn enough technology to make a sound-clip of their conversation? Did they know that they may not survive the tsunami sweeping the shores of their existence, but technology will. I wish we had built bridges earlier.
(100 words)
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Creative Experiments and More 
Thought provoking story.
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Thanks, Sonia!
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Great story, Reena!
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Thank you, Joy!
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Well done and thought-provoking. Wow!
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Thanks 🙂
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I like the idea that the water is cutting off the other side of the river and cannot be bridged. Nicely done.
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Thanks! There is a wide difference between the two sides.
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