GOD
After the Apocalypse, scavengers roamed the city streets and
country ways, sniffing out every last body, and cockroaches feasted on
putrefaction.
Finally all machines – even computers – died from lack of
fuel, and the only sounds were the buzzing of insects, the cries of birds and animals,
and the rustle of plants reclaiming the land.
When the air was sweet again, the God of Rebirth unlocked
the underground chambers, and as the Chosen Few stood blinking in the sunlight
He spoke sternly.
“I am God. This is my world and your last chance to live peaceably.
Don’t screw it up.”
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Thanks again to http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ for the photo prompt for this week's flash fiction. Follow the links to read some of the other offerings from Friday Fictioneers.
