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Tucker and Orlo

There’s something about midnight, about one day drifting into the next. It always felt sultry, mysterious, and exciting until now.

Tucker tugged his leather jacket closed with both hands. "When it comes right down to the core of things, the essence of it all, we have the choice in everything we’re presented with."

Tucker scratched his beard, "Hey are you listening to me?" He said as he walked down the deserted street, kicking away rubbish and scrap metal debris.

"We’re all the same man. We breathe the same air, we all create excrement, and we produce bodily fluids all around."

He looked as if he was really trying to get through to a close friend. "Orlo, stop lookin’ at me with that shit eatin’ grin."

Tucker looked gaunt now. It had been three months since the apocalypse. That’s the only word for it. There was nothing left.

There had been major worldwide power outages, wars, looting, and more. Everyone seemed to disappear. But here was Tucker and Orlo. With little food or water to scrounge. Just when Tucker was getting used to his quiet odd friend, he saw Orlo’s antennas take on an unusual glow. An enormous spacecraft came down slowly and hovered over them. And Tucker knew this was the day of Judgment.

Story by:

Shawna Rand

submitted at 12:07am

20 May 2010

Shawna Rand's web:

http://bigdipperursamajor.blogspot.com/