Saturday, December 19, 2020

"And the Enfolding Arms Shall Cradle 'Til Your Last Breath and Beyond"

Warren saw the news alerts. Everyone did. Still, no family rang. No friends pinged his socials. No fleeing neighbors knocked.

He played PS4 until the grid failed. He ate jerky and G FUEL, rationing the battery on his silent phone.

Midday. The phone dead. Shuffling. Growling. An elderly scream quickly stifled. Sound of splintering bone.

Warren walked to his apartment's door. Unlocked it. Sat. Waited.

Creak of hinges. Staggering steps. Outside the window, fat flakes had started drifting down. A white Christmas after all.

As undead arms encircled his shoulders, tears welled in Warren's eyes.

Finally. Someone who wanted him.


Phil W said...

Goodness. Poor Warren. He wasn't that bad a chap. Thanks, Loren.

Paula Gail Benson said...

Brilliant world creation in a few carefully chosen details. Great story. Thanks, Loren.

Loren Eaton said...


Yeah, Warren had a hard go of it. Not a great way to go, methinks.

Loren Eaton said...


You are too kind. Thank you.

Patrick N. said...

Warren needed Lucille in his life. #obscurereference

Now I want to play Dead of Winter again.

Fantastic storytelling as usual, Loren!

Loren Eaton said...

(I am clueless, for I do not get it. Also, would like to play "Dead of Winter," but I struggle to find fellow gaming fiends.)

Michael Morse said...

Quite creepy, not sure why, which is why I think it was very well done. Great job wirh 100 words.

Dave Higgins said...

A most toothsome tale.

TKM said...

Terrific stuff.
For a reason I don't understand, I particularly like "fat flakes"
I also find each time I read it I enjoy it more.
Thanks, Loren.

Loren Eaton said...

Michael: You're quite kind, sir.

Dave: Yes, "toothsome" in the unending-hunger-that-consumes-the-world sort of way.

Kel: Though I live in Florida now, I still remember times in Chicago when the snow would look that way, these plump flakes that would hit you almost with weight.