Zombie Drabble #192 “Under Glass”

Father points, and she looks. There, in the gully, is the ancient hulk of a truck. It has been generations since it skidded to a halt, but shielded from the sun and rain by the trees it is mostly intact; only the tires are rotted away.

At first she does not see it, but as she creeps closer she recognizes the ghastly outline through the clouded windshield. It opens its blackened maw in a noiseless moan, angry at having to watch its food walk by unmolested. 

“Why not kill it?” she asks.

Her father shrugs. “Why bother? Let it rot.”

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