Penicillin

Macabre Monday Flash Fiction

He looked backward into the forest primeval. He was lost but he had to run. The lights, the lights were at his back. He could see them occasionally through the fog. His teeth shivered and his arms were stiff. Run, run, away. He needed antibiotics for the fall.

He ran through the aged branches. He ran through the hagworn branches.

He looked back one more time and the last thing he saw was an arrow headed for his face.

“You certainly got him.”

“Yep.”

“You would think they would have learned by now.”

“Nope.”

“Would distribution of more literature help?”

“Do see that that would do any good.”

“Why do they run?”

“Because the ritual comes to them all. And then the penicillin gets them.”

“It’s not so bad. It only takes a moment.”

“They have eaten enough bodies to know that the bodies are living.”

“That’s the way the penicillin feeds. What do you think they see?”

“They see the fog as they age under the lights.”