by Steven Holding
Slow shuffle, like a senile senior citizen. Shoulder to slumped shoulder. Your own odour, Eau de decay, bothers you no longer.
You’re at one with the crowd now.
Amidst this apocalypse, you experience an acceptance never found in life: not inside, doing time, nor in padded asylums.
The herd swerve, having heard a scream, moaning, closing in.
A young girl swings, smashing skulls, crushing brains. It’s not enough to save her.
The pack collapses while attacking.
As she’s torn in two, you catch her eye, offering a smile as you dig in.
Happy that your appetite can finally be satisfied.
Steven Holding lives in the United Kingdom. His work has appeared both online and in print. Most recently, his short story “ROUTE THIRTY-THREE” won the 2019 H.E. BATES SHORT STORY COMPETITION prize for best story from a Northamptonshire writer. You can follow his work at www.stevenholding.co.uk