
Puddles like pillows
If you like your spec fic with a bit of Brit humour, this might suit: Things began disappearing round about March. Just little things – a newspaper left on a bench, or a sandwich wrapper – and not blown away or tumbled into a corner, just gone. We shrugged collectively: so rubbish vanished – was that even a problem? Then somebody caught an empty beer can in the act and started squawking about it; how it went, like, straight up in the air, man, he said. Wasted, the rest of us said, because he wore big trainers and a hoodie. … Continue reading Puddles like pillows