Good day to you all dearest readers. You join me again in the swampy mire we call reality for another post. This time, I bring you a piece of flash fiction. Flash fiction is always interesting to write; its tiny word count makes it a good challenge. This piece was written for a competition with the prompt “stock.” I hope you enjoy!
The supermarket stood desolate and abandoned. The windows were smashed and a thin layer of radioactive dust had crept into the foyer. Inside it was dark and the air smelled stale. No one had been here in years.
“Do you really think we’ll find any here?”
They crept into the gloomy depths of the store, guns at the ready. Anything could be hiding in here. Their breaths escaped in short, laboured bursts, and echoed faintly off the empty shelves.
Sunlight barely penetrated this far, but they couldn’t risk torches. Plus they needed to save the batteries. Supplies were running low.
They turned into aisle 12. This was the right one. She remembered from before the world ended.
They searched the shelves fastidiously. There! She grinned. Tucked away were three packs of glorious coffee, six jars in each.
“We better stock up. We don’t know when we’ll find more.”