“That’s the last can.”
He growled, “What, no more peas?”
“Harvey, the last can. We’re out of food.”
“Nonsense. There’s at least another two boxes back there.”
“They’re empty. Or, rather, they’re full of empty cans. There’s not much in the way of drinking water, either. The raincatcher must be blocked up…”
“I’ll check it.”
“And the food? You’re going to have to go out and—”
“I’m not going.” He said it with an eerie finality.
“Fine, I’ll go.”
“You won’t make it ten steps out that door.”
She stared at him, arms crossed.
“Fine. I’ll go in the morning.”
Zombie Drabble #371 “Zero Tolerance”
Orville raised his head, stared, moaned.
“It’s not looking good for you, there, Orville.”
Orville reached out with both arms, tried to get to his feet, but was pulled off-balance by the chains, falling heavily back onto his rear. He hissed in anger.
“Not good at all.”
Orville moaned in hunger, mouth agape, black tongue hanging dry and bloated against his torn bottom lip.
“I had it all worked out, Orville. They was gonna let me keep you down here, chained. But then you had to go and bite the little girl, Orville.”
Orville hissed again, unrepentant.
“Not cool, Orville.”
“It’s not looking good for you, there, Orville.”
Orville reached out with both arms, tried to get to his feet, but was pulled off-balance by the chains, falling heavily back onto his rear. He hissed in anger.
“Not good at all.”
Orville moaned in hunger, mouth agape, black tongue hanging dry and bloated against his torn bottom lip.
“I had it all worked out, Orville. They was gonna let me keep you down here, chained. But then you had to go and bite the little girl, Orville.”
Orville hissed again, unrepentant.
“Not cool, Orville.”
SF Drabble #373 “Nocturnal”
After three days of fighting: they own the basements and the night. During the day, everything where sunlight falls is ours. It makes them lethargic, stupid, they can’t fight. Their beam weapons go unused, they sit stupefied where they are and wait for us to come finish them.
At night, or underground, they cut through us like a harvester through wheat. If they’d landed during the winter, with shorter days, we might already have lost everything.
We’re booby-trapping underground areas as we fall back, but our most precious weapon in the struggle to retain Earth might just be the sunlamp.
At night, or underground, they cut through us like a harvester through wheat. If they’d landed during the winter, with shorter days, we might already have lost everything.
We’re booby-trapping underground areas as we fall back, but our most precious weapon in the struggle to retain Earth might just be the sunlamp.
Fantasy Drabble #295 “Wisps”
The old wizard concentrated with his eyes closed, ignoring the world around him; after not too long, he could hear the whispering distinguish itself from the breeze. He never caught every word, or even most. Some days he was lucky to pick out a word here and a phrase there.
Today it was as if they wanted him to hear. “High grounds. To the hills.”
He thought of farm animals predicting earthquakes, inclement weather. He put the old fedora onto his head, stood creakily up from the park bench, and hobbled over to the sidewalk to flag down a cab.
SF Drabble #372 “Somebody’s Going To Emergency”
The alien leaned over him, smelling faintly of nutmeg. “Can you understand my speech?”
Groggily, he answered, “Yes.”
“You are human Christopher Patrick Torolevsky.”
“I… am. That’s me.”
“And you came to this planet for what reason?”
“I… I’m on vacation. With my wife. With… is Mary Elisabeth all right? Is she ok?”
“Do not excite yourself, you are still week. Your mate is alive and uninjured: the Make-haste did not strike her.”
He coughed. “Lucky.”
“Yes. You were very difficult to put back together. It was most challenging. Though, we are fairly certain everything is where it should be.”
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