She didn’t believe in fossil fuel. Yet here she was: stuck with an old truck that never failed and a convertible nobody drove.
She had found him behind a wheel, music blaring, surrounded by unticking clocks and shoeboxes with photos of people dead longer than she’d been alive.
Smiling.
Gone.
Amy Marques grew up between languages and cultures and learned, from an early age, the multiplicity of narratives. She penned three children’s books, barely read medical papers, and numerous letters before turning to short fiction. Her writing has been published internationally in numerous journals including 50-Word Stories, Star82 Review, Flying South, and Across the Margin. Her work has also been anthologized in Branching Out: Brilliant Flash Fiction Anthology, and she was shortlisted for the Fractured Lit micro competition. You can read more of her words at amybookwhisperer.wordpress.com.
short and sharp – a fantastic life picture painted
Indeed, it is like a picture, something I looked at and pondered while deeper meanings kept coming from it.