In the beginning I dropped messages onto the street.
I tipped anything I could find out of the hopper window – bottle caps with biro skating across the shiny plastic, bank statement envelopes upon which my writing was cramped around the cellophane window, used paper napkins flapping drunkenly through the cold air. My messages skittered, swooped, fluttered down onto the slush-banked pavements where they lay amongst the other festive detritus.
I could only open the window briefly – he wakes if there is a chill in the air. The danger of the illicit window isn’t the worst part though. The worst part is quietly pulling the window handle up and feeling it click. The worst part is knowing that the Christmas lights playing against the glass are all the pedestrians down below can see. The worst part is looking at them all, scarves at their mouths and collars pulled high around their ears, looking down not at my paltry epistolary offerings, but at the phones, urgent and needy.
Thanks for reading, folks. Recent short stories include ‘Drip, Drip, Drip‘ and ‘Listen‘.
Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Close to the Bone, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, Flashback Fiction, Cafelit, Best MicroFiction 2021, Writer’s Egg, Idle Ink, The Wild Word, Down in the Dirt, and Shooter magazine. He has a Professional Doctorate in Education. Matthew blogs at www.matthewjrichardson.com.
Matthew Richardson 
I really like this piece, Matthew. Very visual and with a hint of mystery and menace.
Fine writing.
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Thanks Chris. Very kind of you as always! Enjoyed writing this one.
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My pleasure
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So beautiful writing 🙏🎸
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Thanks so much – really kind of you!
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The imagery is stark and vivid, the last line grabs you hard. Good stuff no doubt.
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Thanks Christopher. Definitely a sense of the brutal and austere in there!
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I feel I should find all those messages and pick them up; and then I could see what they really meant. Good one, Matthew!
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Cheers Chris! I suppose they might be requests for lattes to be brought up to the flat, but probably something more sinister!
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This is an accurate picture of what often goes on in our digitally connected society. While people who really need help send us frantic messages, we are hypnotized by our phones—oblivious to the hell the people right in front (or above us) are experiencing. Matthew, this piece makes me want to throw my IPhone into an aquarium. Okay, maybe after I finish this comment, and recheck my word press feed….
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Oh, my! Such a frightening piece–with a non-pedantic built-in moral. Well done, Matthew!
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Thanks Annie. Don’t wake him!
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beautifully written, Matthew with that sharp observation at the end —
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