By Bill West

Drapes drawn, the mirror covered. The workshop clock -- stopped at the hour of her passing. He entered the Time Machine and set the dial. Flywheels spun, drive belts clattered and the chronos disc began to sing -- scattering light as it beat against the flow of time.

Retreat. Back to that moment, only to lose her again. And again.




Bill West lives in Shropshire, UK. He is a member of a number on-line writing communities and is Group Host for the WriteWords Flash Fiction One Group. His work has appeared AntipodeanSF, Kaleidotrope, Every Day Fiction, The Drabbler, Twisted Tongue, Zygote in My Coffee, FlashQuake, Heavy Glow, Bewildering Stories and other places. www.writewords.org.uk/bill_west