Saturday, 1 March 2014


by Thomas High

The ones with gravel driveways went first. Before word could get out to the people with brickwork paving, more of the hatchlings were waking up, and those who remained were taken in other ways. Rocky beaches took seaside towns; medieval architecture took cities; Ayer's rock single-handedly conquered Australia. Carrying their stony shells on their backs like hermit crabs, they scuttled across the planet in swarms, eager to be fed.

When all was done, the cracks the newborns had made in the Earth grew bigger. A set of spindly legs sprouted from the planet's crust, and it scuttled off into space.

Author bio: Thomas High lives in Norwich. He tries his best to write sometimes. His favourite colour is green. You can visit him at

Hatchlings is part of 101 Fiction issue 3.

1 comment:

  1. Gaping, I read. LOVE the imagery, even if it's also terrifying. Ayer's Rock is especially splendid. And then you take the whole thing from driveway to planet in a hundred words. Magnificent.