Visual writing prompt #2. Where does this cemetery lead you?  Tip: it doesn’t have to be about zombies or vampires. Short story? Flash fiction?

The heat and the desolated land had me thinking about the life here. About why anything conscious or not would chose this place as a home. Not how, adaption is easy if you have the will, but why. It’s not like there aren’t other places much better suited to sustaining life not far from here. Yet the stubborn few plants and animals and people decide that this is their home and they’re not gonna move. Eliminating the choice from the equation makes all the difference. Without the perception that there is a choice to be made, its adapt or die. I guess for a lot of things, adaption to what you know is easier than change to what you don’t.

The wind swept up an awful amount of dust. It was hot and unbearably dry. The few houses and barns in the distance withstood it. They have no choice. Even when they’re abandoned and decayed, they’ll be there in that same spot. This spot. This dull dry spot in the middle of nowhere. What a place to bury someone.

The gale was assaulting my ears. It had free run of the place. It was scary to only see hills on the horizon. I’d never seen anything like it. This place was getting to me fast.

I began to wipe the dust from her stone again, but I stopped. I knew what the damn thing said. And I wouldn’t be here to wipe it every time the wind picks up. This is what you get Mum. Dust in your face in a shitty empty desert from now on. There’s nothing I can do about it now. I had to move. I looked around to confirm what I knew. There was no one keeping me here. Not a soul. So I got in my car and left the desert.


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