Billy sat on top of the hill looking down on the town where he had grown up. The filling station was the only building with lights on. From here it was as though nothing had changed.
Two grey warships sat out at sea. Soon he would return to one of them and spend another few months patrolling the coastline. It used to help people think they were safe. Now it was just for show.
They let humanity cling onto life on this one island. Why? For how long? Supplies were dwindling, so was the human population. They continued to pick off a few at a time. Why not just kill everyone?
There was no way to defeat them. Their sophisticated weaponry had withstood everything they had thrown at them. The only hope of survival was that they would leave of their own accord. That didn’t seem like happening anytime soon.
As the sun disappeared, Billy jogged down the hill and headed home.
Never be outside when the sun goes down. That’s when they come.
Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story, in around 150 words based on the weekly photo prompt. For more information visit HERE.
To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
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