Flash Fiction: Prepped
This flash fiction idea came to me while I was on a train.
I have no more context to offer.
Deep, right? I hope you enjoy it 😄
Prepped
The ash falls started, just like the radio said they would.
The town in the valley below sparkles with juttering lights as the normals scrambled to save themselves. I watch through Pa’s telescope as they fight over food and fuel. I pity them.
Up here we are safe. We are prepared.
My sister is crying, but for her friends, not us.
Don’t worry, Mother says, we have enough food in the bunker for years.
She pulls her scarf around her head until all I can see are her eyes, then she puts on ski goggles and even those are lost. The darkness outside swallows her, the flecks of white and grey as impenetrable as any fog.
I watch the clock, but there’s no need. She’s back within minutes.
Come on, she says. I need your help.
My turn to cover up. Every inch of skin covered against the suffocating death that falls from the sky. Outside the heat is unnerving. There should be a sun to provide this amount of warmth.
Mother is on her hands and knees, digging in ash three feet deep.
I ask her where the entrance to the bunker is.
She starts to dig somewhere else.
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