“Shhhh!” Meg hissed. “Get the hell down!”
Tracey ducked behind a rusty spreader. “Sorry,” she whispered. “But this seems wrong.”
“Wrong?” Meg burst out, her shout echoing between farm buildings. “What’s ‘wrong’ is what this stuff does to people.”
In the moonlight Meg seemed less the crusader Tracey had followed; instead with chaff embedded in her dreadlocks she looked comical, a ridiculous scarecrow hippy. Tracey’s gut roiled as Meg finished connecting explosives to the silos.
“But this isn’t even a GMO crop!”
“Sorry Trace,” said Meg. She looked up, eyes wide, hungry for chaos. “But I just can’t tolerate gluten.”
Ok, ok, its a silly joke, but I couldn’t help myself.
So, this is my entry to this week’s Friday Fictioneers ; where the aim is to write a story – beginning, middle, and end – in 100 words, based on the photo prompt. Check here for the rest of the stories.
It’s another quick one, as I’m slightly busier at work than normal. I hope this actually makes sense!