The grizzly bear tries to run from me, but he’s not fast enough. When he turns his head, to gauge the time that’s left to him, his wide-open eyes reflect my ten-foot frame, my boulder-like shoulders, my serrated fangs, my blue skin. The grass under our feet is black. The sky is falling down fast and glowing, like the radioactive snow. The wind howls, but not as loud as me.
I’ll be less hungry tonight. I’ll sit by the pile of bones, the snow settling in my hair, hugging my shoulders for warmth, and bewail both his wasted beauty and myself.
As a long-time science fiction buff, this story resonates with me. A gritty, after-the-holocaust tale well told with a bare minimum of words. Loved it!
Thank you, Mr. Warner.
Enjoyed the hell out of this, Mark! Nicely done.