“That’s why I farted in your cereal,” said Barry Bearington.
“You farted in my cereal?” asked Salty Dog.
“I did,” said Barry.
“Is that what gives it that tang?” asked Salty.
“Indeed,” said Barry.
“You boys are so gross,” said Winifred.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I found these…”
“Toys. You found toys, and you’re playing with them. You’re putting on a play with toys you found.”
“Where there are toys, there are children. We may find some around here.”
“When was the last time you saw a child? When was the last time you saw someone who saw a child?”
“There was that couple in Minneapolis. They were looking for their kids.”
“They weren’t all there, physically or mentally. They didn’t even run when the mute charged them.”
“That doesn’t mean there aren’t any kids around here. There are toys.”
“Those toys have been there for a while. No one’s coming back for them. What if we did find a kid? What would you do? Would you be able to do it?”
“I could. I would.”
“What about the gophmute last week?”
“There is a huge difference between a mutant gopher and a human child.”
“Could you do it?”
“Now, you’re the one who’s bullshittin’.”
“No bullshit. It was a few months or a year after. It didn’t take long to lose all track of time. It was before I hooked up with your group. At first, I was just excited to see another living person. I think she was, too. We traveled together for a while, but, with two of us, the food ran out quick.”
“You knew her?”
“For a little while. I did it fast while she was sleeping. It turned out the killing was the easy part.”
Well, that took a dark turn. Once upon a time, this blog was started to showcase my family-friendly sci-fi stories, The L Squad & Norman Normalson & The Normals. Now, a few fiction groups later, it’s all dystopian futures, murders, rape, pedophilia, cannibalism, and the darkest depths of humanity. Nobbinmaug is for the children. Flash fiction challenges are not.