I
volunteer as a rear gunner on a school bus.
Monday to Friday; 8.15 AM and 3.30 PM, I guard
the back windows as the City’s elderly armoured Routemaster burns oilseed or,
after a bad harvest, sand-filtered Lard along the river road up to the Castle.
It’s riskiest when the infants are disembarking or clambering on young,
malnourished legs up the too-high step. Warmed
by hours of daylight, Johnny Zeb is at his most active at those times and I get
far too much practice firing the Mouth Organ.
Still, it breaks the monotony of potato
farming and halberd drill.
2 comments:
Great stuff, I love post-apocalytic stories.
This one had me from the opening line.
Thank you Steve - that's the trick, isn't it? mind you, sustaining the excitement's a harder job - especially at my age.
On a darker note, it's back to sunny Yorkshire today for the third instalment of my occasional vampire series 'The Changes.'
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