Sunday, 1 September 2013


by Kymm Coveney

Her gall was the deep, almost purple spread of spilt wine as it leeched into the tablecloth's crisp, white fibres. She gathered her russet, seething fury into piles; raked in the fallen eidolon, tawny skeletal debris crackling upon release.

Sparks leapt from her long fingernails as they struck – rat-a-tat-tat – the marble upon which she meant to lie. The meagre flares from her ire would not do. She removed the shawl of tightly-woven violet threads, placed his smile next to the way he tied his shoelaces. She spoke his name; with the sigh that had ruffled his beard, fanned the flames.

Author bio: Ex-pat from Boston living in Barcelona, raising polyglot kids and fooling with written languages.

Implosion is part of 101 Fiction issue 1.

1 comment:

  1. An absolutely gorgeous tapestry of imagery! Violent and beautiful, both.