The riverbank had been a killing zone for Earthbound sentients. It was a vacation paradise for Un-miriam and her boggart friends. They were on holiday, in the wake of the apocalypse, as they were no longer bound to humans. Un-miriam dipped her head into an oozing drum and drank deeply of the waste. In the blazing sun, it didn’t take long for pure juice to sweat from her pores. She slipped between two drums to rest.
Un-bob admired the ebony shadow flitting from drum to drum, a spacetime-twisted black butterfly among the erstwhile human landfill. He wanted to unite with Un-miriam, but she was tired of his making un-babies. Un-bob couldn’t understand. Yeah, he was promiscuous, but it wasn’t like she had to carry the little monsters to term. She should be glad somebody wanted her skinny silhouette.
He could have his pick of the litter down in the city. He couldn’t stand those shallow, two-dimensional whores, though. They only came out at high sun; not one of them had any appreciation for the subtleties of sunrise or dusk. He’d asked one once, why she never came out in the cool of the evening. The silly cow said the light made her look too long. Well, duh! That was the point, right? Un-bob knew Un-miriam wasn’t like them. She told him that she was up for whatever, whenever with whoever. Apparently, she was a bit selective on the whoever, because, thus far, she had rebuffed his unity attempts.
Seeing her drop between the drums, Un-bob decided to make another pass. However, just as he was about to pounce, a cloud blotted out the sun. The last thing Un-bob heard was, “Go live somewhere else. You don’t belong here.”
Copyright © 2012 by Mitchell Allen
Originally appeared on CreativeCopyChallenge #248.