Worthing Flash

Winged Rescue by Marcelo Medone A scarlet-winged butterfly appears out of nowhere and dances around you nervously, in spasms, although perhaps this is its usual way of flying, you say to yourself. The butterfly keeps vigorously flapping its wings before your eyes and you think it can't be just a coincidence. Against your will, you smile. When butterflies with yellow, blue, white, orange and iridescent wings arrive, you give up, at last. You pull the noose with its knot from your neck, get down from the stool you have placed under the branch of the old tree and look for the butterflies. But they’re gone.

Marcelo Medone “Why does the moon float, Mum?” “I don't know, son. It's just hanging in the sky. That's all, my dear.” “And why doesn't it fall?” “Because it's always been there, even if sometimes we don't see it.” “Always?” “For a long time. All of our lives.” “But that's not always.” The boy looked at his mother with a resigned expression. He put his head on the pillow and covered himself with the blanket. When she was about to blow out the candle, he took her hand and looked at her in anguish. “Why do things fall to the ground and not come up by themselves? Why can't we fly like birds? Why do apples fall from the trees?” he asked. “Always asking silly questions, Isaac. You'd better worry about useful things.” Mrs Newton kissed her son on the forehead, blew out the candle and left her son's room. Isaac looked at the full moon through his window and said to himself that maybe he wasn't asking silly questions.

by Marcelo Medone “ Tell me if it was you or your brother, Betsy: it's very serious matter. The strawberries were for Grandmother Lola's birthday cake.” The woman points to the mess in the kitchen, with traces of strawberries staining the floor and the counter. “ It wasn’t me, Mum, I swear.” Betsy makes a contrite face and sighs. “ And where's Timmy?” “ He left home. He hasn't come back yet.” “ Weren't you going to ask for sweets together?” “ Timmy says I'm too young to go with him. That I am a nuisance. That Halloween isn't for little four-year-old girls like me. That's why he left without me.” “ So, did you see him?” Absolute silence. Betsy bites her lower lip. “ Did you see your brother?” Betsy looks at her mother and realizes she can't lie to her. She swallows and musters up the courage to speak. “ Kevin came to get him earlier. They were the ones who ate the strawberries. Kevin must have eaten strawberries at ho...

t Is Better to Look a Gift Horse in the Mouth (Word count: 100) By Marcelo Medone The king rose from his throne and looked at the crowd at his feet. "Today, after ten long years of war, our enemy has ignominiously abandoned the siege of our glorious city." (Widespread applause and cheers.) "We have even confiscated the colossal offering they made to their gods." (More applause.) "I declare the beginning of festivities. Food and wine for all! Let the music play!" King Priam gazed proudly at the huge wooden horse he had seized from the Greeks. Little did he know that it housed the best Achaean soldiers, ready to take Troy by storm that very night. BRIEF BIO Marcelo Medone (1961, Buenos Aires, Argentina) is a fiction writer, poet, essayist, playwright and screenwriter. His works received numerous awards and were published in multiple languages in more than 50 countries all over the world, including the UK. He was awarded the First Prize in the 2021 intern...

By Marcelo Medone They came back to the coast to contemplate their honeymoon hotel. A visit full of touching and vivid memories. Time has been merciless with the old building, long abandoned. The persistent salty drizzle had washed away the white and light blue paint and eroded the entire structure. The once manicured front garden was now a tangle of bushes and weeds. "It was more beautiful when we were young newlyweds," Oscar said. "Those were good times," Amanda mused. They hugged without caring about the icy wind that blew from the sea and swept the sand off the beach. Only the murmur of the waves and the cries of seagulls celebrated the hundredth anniversary of the ghostly lovers. BRIEF BIO Marcelo Medone (1961, Buenos Aires, Argentina) is a fiction writer, poet, essayist, playwright and screenwriter. His work received numerous awards and was published in multiple languages in more than 50 countries, including the UK. He was awar...