Never tired of the view

Marie poured water onto her marigolds and looked out across the city. She’d never tired of the view from her flat.

She heard him, before she saw him. A war-cry.

He came into view at the balcony above.

Time slowed as he passed.

He smiled and waved, like a passenger from a train as it trundles through a station.

Then he accelerated and disappeared, followed by a thump and the wail of a car alarm.

He was spread-eagled on a bonnet, staring up.

No, she’d never tire of the view. She plucked an orange marigold and let it float down.



A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.