The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!
This is what is left of the orchards that bore us fruit of the gods. Once it was wine country, but now all around us is decimated. Our bones will soon be joining the soil among these sere sentries. Whichever of us is left will see to that.
Pretend that nothing’s changed as I guide you along the road past broken down cars beneath a dull orange sky. We must keep upwind from the smell of death. When we reach the foothills, we find a clearing.
You spread a tablecloth; I bring rocks to hold it down against the wind. You’ve prepared a mock picnic of conversation with fictive wine and Camembert. You laugh a little too hard and I kiss you.
We must leave before sunset brings the curs. So many dogs have turned feral. They travel in packs, some with collars. We’ve grown too weak to beat them off. Days ago I’d try, but no more. We brought the gun. One bullet left. I insert it and spin the chamber.
Your turn first, or mine?
Fiction © Copyright Marge Simon
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
More from Marge Simon:
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Spreading the Writer's Word 
Darkly poignant.
thank you! It isn’t pleasant, but we are Ladies of Horror.