Reaching the end of my walk, I breasted the hill on my way home. The sun had set some while ago and the sky was heavy with clouds. The temperature had fallen since sunset and rain was in the air. I peered over the low stone wall in search of the two sheep that grazed in what had once been a vineyard but was now a tangled mess of weeds. The shy one was a delicious motley brown, like chocolate and cream.… (read more)
This dystopian flash fiction was written while out walking, alone, miles from anywhere during the CoVid19 outbreak.
Yes. I hear it. A distant rumbling rising above the clamour of insects. Birds used to keep them at bay, but birds got gobbled up soon after the disaster. Pets and wild animals didn’t fare much better. Disaster? Anger has long since sunk to a dull despair. We were all so blind. Who would have thought a common cold could wreak such destruction?… (read more)