‘Completely self-sufficient,’ he boasted. ‘The wind turns the mill and powers the dynamo at the back to produce electricity.’
‘And the garden provides food?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Won’t they come and steal from your garden at night?’
‘That’s what I use the walkway for,’ he pointed up at the platform that circled the windmill halfway up. ‘Stand guard and shoot them if they try and come stealing.’
His neighbour nodded, impressed. ‘So you’re not evacuating?’
‘Why would I? Got everything I need right here.’
‘They say their numbers are growing. What happens when you run out of ammunition?’
The windmill owner paused.
‘Or they figure out how to climb that wall. They’ve got some handy-looking claws.’
The windmill owner frowned.
‘And of course, they say some can stand the sunlight now too, so you’ll have to stay alert twenty-four seven.’
The windmill owner scratched his chin, looking up at the home he had spent the last six months preparing for the invasion. ‘When did you say those ships were sailing to the safe lands again?’
Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story or poem in around 150 – 175 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.
To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
IAIN KELLY 
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