by Denise Bayes
What if you’d never left here, never moved away from your hometown and the tight, grey streets, the blank, incurious faces? What if you’d never discovered your tribe, the cool, black polo-necked gang who sat drinking espressos in late night cafes, discussing arthouse films, who made you feel you belonged? What if you hadn’t met him, the guy with the Gauloise, blowing aromatic smoke clouds into the night sky, arching an ironic eyebrow that lassoed your heart? Before breaking it. Now you stare out at the tight, grey streets of home. Your blank, incurious expression reflects in the empty window.
6S
Denise Bayes lives in Barcelona where she writes flash fiction. She's been published in NZ Micro Madness, Oxford Flash, 100 Word Stories, Firewords, and Ellipsis Zine. Follow her on X.
