by Michelle Ann King
People. Everywhere. Swarming, like insects. Like bugs. They got in his way, tripped him up, blocked his path, breathed up all his air and left him bruised and gasping.
So many people. Too many. Unnecessary. Obscene. So many flailing, gross bodies everywhere, filling up all the clean spaces and making him ill, making his head hurt. Too much noise, all those heartbeats, all those pointless, meaningless sounds flapping out of their disgusting wet mouths. No stillness left, anywhere.
It had to stop. He had to find a way. Guns, gas, fire. Purification. And after the screaming, there would be silence.
Author bio: Michelle Ann King writes speculative fiction and horror, and loves the discipline of the drabble. Links to her published stories can be found at: http://michelle-ann-king.blogspot.co.uk/p/stories.html