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the sunday times asked several writers for a 50 word short story last week. then said it didn't want them after all. here's mine.
10 storeys
two hundred kilos of explosives. some grey councilor pushes the button and the whole shitty block comes down. for a couple of seconds smoke clings to the ghost of the building and I see the kids we once were running down corridors of air not believing they will ever fall.