Flash Fiction

They had been trekking through the forest for four full days without a break. They rested at night when it got too dark to see. They stretched a heavily waxed tarpaulin between two trees and lit a small fire to keep away any demons of the night. The fire also enabled them to cook the mushrooms, herbs and berries they had collected during the day's sojourn. They fried them up with dried oats and rice they kept in their sacks.

During the night the two of them clung close together to keep as warm as possible. In the mornings they made sure they cleaned the camp leaving no obvious trace of their resting place. Early on their fifth day shortly after breaking camp they came to a large clearing. They paused just before the break line, lay down in the forest mulch and watched. From their concealed place, they saw several deer and a couple of hogs come and go. After what seemed a suitable length of time they arose and started to make their way across the clearing. When they were about halfway across, from the opposite tree line, there emerged a small white horse. All three stopped and stared. It was then that the two noticed the spiralled horn in the centre of the white horse's head. They turned to each other and mouthed in unison. Unicorn!

It had been eight days since the event. Since everything had changed. Since people had disappeared. Since machines had stopped working. They had made their decision after three days of chaos. They would head away, stay away from the madness and now on this day the world had changed again. Immediately they knew it was a better place.