Flash Fiction by Cliff Henderson
Love is knowing that when you open your eyes your lover is there. Instead I see an over-cautious clinger, a timid girl who screams at her own shadow, and a nerve-wracked octogenarian carrying the only gun. No love here, just fear. “Please watch where you’re pointing that thing.”
“If you do that, more will come.” Herbert with his usual cautiousness.
“We need this to work, or we won’t have water”.
“But do you have to be so loud?”
He had a point. If the end of the world has a point. Maybe best to be found and eaten.
It’s over, that’s what he said. Then he ran out to do as much damage as he could muster. Left me to make a valiant stand against the multitude. Giving us time to run. To hide. Whichever, or both. Yes it was over, he just didn’t know by how much.
Text © Cliff Henderson
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