Parnia Abassi was an Iranian poet, reported killed at the age of in the bombing of Tehran.
SHREWSBURY FLASH FICTION
A magazine of writing by the Shrewsbury Flash Fiction group. It follows an earlier webpage created by our founder and mentor, Pauline Fisk, who sadly died at the start of the year.
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Sunday, 22 June 2025
Poem, by Parnia Abassi
Sunday, 15 June 2025
Saturday, 7 June 2025
Problems of time travel, by Peter Shilston
Agent F2X had been trained always to obey without question orders from the Time Lords, so when he was ordered to travel into the past and blow up a certain designated building, he set his co-ordinates to an appropriate time and place and set out.
On arriving there, however, he was surprised to find merely a shallow crater, which was already being colonised by a few weeds. Clearly, the building had already been destroyed, probably some weeks or months earlier. While he was standing there in puzzlement, a man approaching him, and after a few casual comments about the desolation before them asked, "Haven't I seen you here before?" Covered in confusion, Agent F2X recalibrated his return to his own space/time location and made his report to a Time Lord.
"The mistake was yours," came the reply. "Your co-ordinates were set wrong. You arrived at your destination fifty earthdays later than you should have done, after the building had been destroyed. So now you must return there, but at the correct date, and carry out your task as instructed."
"But," replied F2X in confusion, "surely the task has been done? I saw with my own eyes that the building had been destroyed!"
"In that timeline, yes; but only because you returned. So proceed with your orders."
"But the building might have been destroyed by someone else! And why do I have to return now? Surely the task can be done by anyone, and at any time in the future?"
There was no reply.
Monday, 2 June 2025
Rote, by Annabelle Jane Palling.
ROTE
We tell ourselves they do.
Saturday, 10 May 2025
Broken rap, by Stephanie Spiers
Broken Rap
Tuesday, 6 May 2025
Bridges, by Peter Morford
.I can be impressed by a noble building; a cathedral, a pyramid or a monument. I admire the skill of its design and construction and its aesthetic beauty. In this secular age, I ask – “What practical use were they, other than to enable the clergy to secure their place in their imaginary heaven?” Nowadays we are more down to earth. We want to spend our money on things that work for their living. I confess that I’m more interested in beautiful structures which do something useful. Like bridges.
This unlikely structure is the Arkadina Bridge in Greece. It looks like a hole in a wall but it’s a real bridge, built around 1300 BC to carry charioteers to war. This dry-stone masterpiece is Europe’s oldest working bridge for pedestrians and cars still furtively cross it.
Bridges are different. Can there be any artefact which is as useful from the start? Or, to put it another way, imagine the world if there were no bridges. Where can we ford the river? Where’s the ferry?
I remember the first time I went to Skye. It was Saturday evening and we knew if we missed the ferry we’d be stuck because, at that time, everything stopped for Sunday. What we needed was a bridge. After an anxious wait a shaky little car- ferry. we persuaded a reluctant old salt to take one more trip. We arrived in time for dinner.
A few years later, there WAS a nice new toll-bridge. Of course, the community was divided on the matter. The ferry folk were redundant. The islands feared the invasion and the Sabbath was defiled as shops and pubs opened. Sassenachs like me admired its sleek lines and revelled at the new freedom.
Just think of the wonderful variety of bridges. It might be few tree-trunks across a narrow stream or a slab of rock resting like a table on two mounds. From these simple things have emerged some of the most impressive objects in the world. Ironbridge; the overgrown Meccano set of The Forth Bridge; suspension bridges of steel and concrete crossing the Severn; the Chesapeake Bridge-Tunnel.
Then in France, the Millau Viaduct standing on legs as tall as the Eiffel Tower. You ask yourself “Does the music of the spheres play in the wires on a windy day?”
There’s also a majesty in the more prosaic. Where several ways meet there is an excuse to weave a three-D pattern of roads. I’m thinking of Spaghetti Junction. Look at it objectively. Forget for a moment your worries about pollution. Remember how easily you navigate what would have been an almost impossible confusion before there were overpasses.
Thursday, 24 April 2025
How to write, by John Steinbeck
I really don't see how this advice can be bettered. It no doubt applicable to other fields too
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