Samantha Slomin
Stories (1/0)
Our Own Terms
Mom always said to keep pushing, to keep moving. We were survivors. We survived when we lost the house. We survived when dad left. W survived when the world changed, and the schools closed. We even survived when the explosions started and it seemed like the lights would be out forever. The news would come on at night and would list the numbers of all of the people who had died. That’s all there was to watch, just a scroll of the dead until the electricity went out and all of the stations stopped running. I guess it was something nuclear. Mom never would give me a clear answer, she would just mutter something about how people would rather hate one another than live. I don’t blame her for being vague, she didn’t know what this would turn into.
By Samantha Slomin3 years ago in Fiction