Flash Fiction

The slums of Lindisfarne had been growing since before the great collapse. Initially the crowds came slowly, building homes with whatever they could scavenge, whatever washed up. Now the slums are the Island. Where the unwashed thrive.

Cubby is one. An unholy. As it happens, he is the most unholy. Which is why he is face to face with the dwindling authorities. Across the incoming tide they shout, he shouts back.

Help us rebuild.

Rebuild what, we had nothing.

This time it’ll be different.

Equal you mean?

Silence.

We had nothing, you had it all. Your equality is the collapse.