Many thanks, as always, to Rochelle for Friday Fictioneers!
Different
My small town had been behaving strangely before I chained myself to my computer to complete the promised last dozen chapters of my novel. When I ventured into town intent on restocking my empty pantry, I paused, astonished.
About 80% of the fine people of Landstowne stood in the town center, glowing like gender-proud aliens, pink and blue.
“Annihilate the different.”
“Annihilate!”
If I squinted, I could discern Ray and Ethel, the Morrisons. And Preacher Willis?
Were they speaking in tongues? No, some words I discerned: hate, them, death.
Preacher Willis turned toward me, pointed, his eyes death rays: “Different!”
end
Sascha Darlington
Oh, those ones are here already I think
True Ray Bradbury style.
Perfect. And painfully true everywhere, we don’t even need glowing orbs for the hate. This is the second blog, where I have trouble posting under my WP account, strange… I’m not fond of having to give my Email for commenting.
You always do, no?
Oh why did she have to leave her house!
Oh boy, that is the last thing she wants to hear. Run girl!
Dear Sascha,
I hear the Twilight Zone theme song playing in the distance. Forced conformity is terrifying.
Shalom,
Rochelle
it looks like she doesn’t belong anymore. it’s time to get out of town while she can.