THE NEW COASTLINE
“Let’s go, Jesse,” Dad shouted. We'd had a month without rain.
Mom handed me granddad’s shotgun. Dad never learned to use it. We'd been against hunting before.
Hunting was a necessity now. I’d been pretty good at the arcade, so shooting rabbits was easy.
We weren’t vegetarians anymore, either.
We picked our way down the mountain, through the ruined landscape, ignoring the bloated bodies.
The new coastline appeared out of nowhere.
“Look at that!” Dad marvelled, but I was looking out over the endless sea.
The big storm was over. We'd better be ready for the next one.
This Dabble in FLASH FICTION is from FRIDAY FICTIONEERS courtesy of:
and you can comment on mine below: