Friday Flash Fiction

Dee Lovering
Photo courtesy of Dee Lovering

A peaceful scene – a park, fall leaves, a light dusting of snow. What could possibly be wrong with this picture?

Word count: 100

Early Winter

In the months following the detonation, the skies burned with gas and toxins. Anything above ground in the blast zone was obliterated, vaporized, gone. Thousands of miles away, groups made the first foray to the surface. Alison volunteered to step out into the gloom.

A park, a gazebo, her life as it used to be – the scene was deceptively calm, mocking her. It was late August, but nuclear winter dusted the ruins with ash-laden snow, choking out whatever life remained.

Calendars lost meaning, seasons were abandoned. Alison knew the hope of Spring was a dream lost in the ash.

To see other stories, please visit the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields site here.

© Erin Leary

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