When Martian hordes invaded, we fled to the forest.
Though safe, we had no food or water.
"Whatíll we do?" Lisa, asked. "Iím famished."
"I think a Morganite settlement is just beyond the woods," I said.
"An End Times religious cult. They live in communes. I heard they hoard food. They paint big Mís on their buildings."
The next day, we reached the end of the forest.
"Look over there," Lisa yelled. "I see a barn with an M!"
She raced toward it.
"Wait for me," I hollered.
Ignoring me, she disappeared among towering cornstalks.
Then came horrible screams.
Peering through the cornstalks, I saw Martians tear Lisa apart and jam the bloody pieces into their filthy mouths.
I couldnít tell which was worse: my biting hunger, burning thirst, or terrible guilt for telling Lisa how Morganites marked their buildings.
I didnít know Martians did the same thing.
submitted at 5:34pm
6 May 2009
Michael's stories have been published by 107 magazines and 30 anthologies.