Interregnum

First of the dead comes callling

 

The world no longer tolerated human sounds.

We again had only the wind and birds and streams, not the constant thrum of industry.

Cars and trucks and trains lay askew, smoking and silent under gunmetal skies.

Whatever happened had passed us by – it was elsewhere, an abstraction.

In the first weeks we heard only whispers and rumors – fevers on a distant continent.

We cut wood and drew water while the world bled away from us.

The sun warmed our shoulders and backs in the garden.

We made love, and ate, and said beautiful drunken things.

We ran naked through the house, delirious in the aftermath of history.

We lived as the Creator had always intended.

And it was only after the first of the dead scratched lightly at our bedroom window

That we realized the world would have its horror – our dreams be damned.

_____________________________________________________

For the flash fiction contest over at terribleminds. The theme was disease and horror. Happy Halloween from Sitting In Darkness!

Image by Burtoo

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About Bob Bois

Bob Bois is a writer living in the old, mysterious hills of Central Massachusetts. He blogs his horror flash fiction at http://sittingindarkness.com View all posts by Bob Bois

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