Flash Fiction #15: Solstice

 The fierce, sudden whoosh of the wind on the hilltop drowns out what Josie was saying, and Toby has to ask her to repeat herself.

“I said that this has been our best camping trip yet,” Josie leans forward in her seat so she's saying it right in his ear. Toby can feel her breath on him, despite the breeze. He grabs her by the waist and pulls her down from her deck chair to join him on the grass. She lies next to him, propped up on her elbows, and rests her head on his shoulder.

On the beach below them, Sara is paddling in the tide, expensive flip-flops dangling from one hand. Josie and Toby watch as Hugo sneaks up behind her, picks her up and drops her in deeper water. Her outraged squeals travel all the way up to the camp-site, and they laugh. Josie turns her head to look for Robin, but he's somewhere out of sight. Reading, or sulking, in one of the tents, most likely.

“I'm so glad Robin brought someone with him this year,” Toby says. “I think it made him feel more a part of the group, don't you?”

“Absolutely,” Josie nods emphatically. “You're not really one of us until you've fed the Man.”

“She was nice,” Toby continues. “I'd expected some poor dullard, but Francesca had something about her.”

“Tits,” Josie giggles. “What else do you think drew our Robin to her?”

Toby chuckles, then agrees.

“I think he'll really miss her,” Josie sighs. “Still, it has to be done. And it's over now, bless him.”

Toby kisses her on the temple and reminds her that it's their turn next year.

“Hmm,” she snuggles in closer. “There's winter to get through first, don't forget.”

Josie closes her eyes and tilts her face to catch as much of the glorious sunshine as possible. Toby decides to do the same.

The Green Man is happy, there's no doubting that. They've done their part. And although she didn't seem to take much comfort in it at the time, Francesca's sacrifice has ensured a prosperous summer for them all.

~

Flash Fiction #7: Two Minutes

It's surprisingly easy getting your hands on a pregnancy test when civilisation has all but crumbled around you.  Pharmacies are one of the first places to get looted - people stocking up on painkillers, bandages, caffeine pills, cough syrup, fucking contact lenses - but nobody's in a real hurry to pee on a stick.

I'd witnessed the end of the world along with a handful of others, fled my house without even a backwards glance.  I'd adapted to a life underground, only returning to the surface on salvage missions with Ty.  I'd quickly schooled myself in the arts of self defense and interrogation.  I've earned, quite rightfully, a reputation among our new community as quite the hard-ass.  But none of that prepared me for the agonising, seemingly endless two minute wait.

Two minutes.  Long enough to ponder what the hell I was going to do if it was positive.  If I was going to be relieved if it turned out negative - after all, it's not like bringing a child into this world would be the responsible thing to do.  I hadn't said a thing to Ty - at this very moment he thought I was fetching more medical supplies, not crouching in a doorless restroom, wishing I still had a watch so I could track the passing seconds.

Could I be a mother?  Before the world ended, I'd always just assumed I'd make the decision when I was older and more mature.  While life had forced me to grow up a hell of a lot faster than I'd intended, I still wasn't sure whether I had what it took.  Kids were hard work, apocalypse aside.

Ty would be thrilled, though.  We've known each other for a year, and been together for less than that.  But I know he would make a great father.  I've seen him protect strangers, horrible people who didn't deserve saving.  But he did anyway.  Because that's who he is.  If they ever do manage to rebuild, to launch an Earth 2.0, Ty would make an excellent blueprint.  Me, not so much.

Two minutes.

Of course, it was positive.  Life just wasn't complicated enough these days.