Fiction
Honorable Mention

flashquake
Next Year
by Greg Beatty

This is the year, Ramon thought. This year I will run with the bulls.

To his left, Ramon heard the shouts and pounding hooves as the bulls were driven through the streets of Pamplona.

A cloud of tails and horns swept past, driving brave young men before them, running, some falling, some screaming, some bleeding.

Ramon listened as the cloud of noise and dust thundered away to his right. Ramon stood still, in his safe and familiar sidestreet, his heart pounding.

Next year, Ramon thought. Next year I will run with the bulls.

© 2002 by Greg Beatty

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