From the Author: “Heyo, everyone! I’ve made it to Australia. How long I stay down here depends on a variety of factors. You may see an increase in my writing, or you may not. It depends. But, a new location leads to a new sensation and new developments. So here’s the latest micro-fiction for people!”
by Miles H. Rost
The steel monstrosities were planted in a circle.
The small ragtag group of wanderers knew that they needed to watch the openings between the cars. They didn’t know what would come in.
“Alright, we’re protected from the beasts. What do we do now?” a teenage girl wanderer asked.
“We have a fire, we’re stuck here for the night,” one of the old wanderers replied, gruffly, “Someone should probably sing a song.”
All 17 of them looked at each other, trying to figure out who could sing. That is, until an 18th man cleared his throat.
“I know a song. Someone play the guitar.”