“It must be filled with grain”,
Ian’s eyes burned with hunger, a finger resting on the trigger of their only AK-47.
“It’s all ours now”, his gaze met Sara’s.
Sara felt her husband moving for Ian’s gun but he was still too late.
Robert lay still beside her.
“One less share, now it’s more for us”, Ian crossed the fence.
Sara stopped behind the fence, signalling for the others to wait, pointing at the sign.
With hands covering her ears she waited for the explosion, trusting Robert’s ballistic vest that only one share had to be deducted.
I took the route of writing a little tale of post-apocalypse, imagining a group of survivors where the power of a single gun might need to be handled. It was a long time since I wrote a tale with a twist so I thought this might work.
Friday Fictioneers is lead by Rochelle Wissoff-Fields and we all try to write stories to the same pictures. The only restriction is to use 100 words (or something like it).
May 13, 2015