by John Xero
Marking the days made Dr. Cooke feel more human, somehow. Her battered almanac predicted an eclipse.
The sky revealed nothing. Just clouds of ash, as usual.
She tried to remember daylight, the sensation of sun on skin – tantalising memories, out of reach.
The wan light dimmed further and she saw something slink between crumbling tower blocks in a scuff of shadows and dust. She stiffened. In this penumbra between bright civilisation and the new dark ages only the hostile survived.
She licked her knife of jagged bone. Only the hostile thrived. All that remained were predators, preying on each other.
Author bio: Who knows what monsters lie within us civilised folk? Waiting for an excuse to take control, to lose control, to save us from the monsters all around...
John Xero is at one with his monster, they discuss humanity over tea and crumpets.
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