LAST MAN STANDING
When the plague struck I somehow
escaped contagion. On my first foray into town for food I didn’t see one adult
alive, but I acquired a small tribe of feral children.
Suddenly my cottage wasn’t big enough
so we moved to this farm. We have fruit and vegetables to pick, horses to pull
the machinery, and space to recover. Each time we hit town for clothes, tools
and seeds – always seeds – more children creep out of the undergrowth to join
us.
What we need now is books and a
teacher – preferably young and female – then it will be perfect.
..................................................................................
WRITTEN IN A RUSH BEFORE MY GRANDDAUGHTER ARRIVES FOR HER FIRST EVER SLEEP-OVER - WITH ME LUCK! Apologies for the capitals :) Thanks to Rochelle https://rochellewisoff.com/ for hosting Friday Fictioneers and to Marie for the photo that almost - but not quite - had me stumped!