The Red Envelope

The sign read “Pollution,” “Toxic,” “Biohazard” on bright red metal. But Qin could not read, and he knew that red meant prosperity in his home country. The river ran clear like cyanide in a sparkling glass. He dipped a toe into the water, then an eager foot, a knee, a pause for the birds that flew overhead, and then the plunge of pale ears and all. His black hair swished to the surface, a farewell wave to the black birds cawing above. The refreshing water poured into his cells like the blood red of a lucky envelope covered in fours.



Andrea Ellickson lives in Berkeley, California. While working at International House at UC Berkeley and interning at National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), she continues to write her first novel titled The Mirador.

Photo Credit: Matt Bilton

One Response to “The Red Envelope”

  1. mike r. james says:

    very good. its hard to tell a complete story in a 100 words. they seem to have the rhythm of poetry. i love to write them.

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