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Title: the future of communism
Fandom: Original
Relationship: Horse Girl & Apocalyptic Commune Runner
Prompt: 8.3 Apocalypse
Rating: T
Warnings: Zombies.
Summary: Horse girl meets apocalypse and reflects on communism.
I’d been lucky. I’d still been on horseback when the first one showed up. I’d been over the fence of the arena and clattering down the road home while the rest of my class got their throats torn out.
Bessie lived in my living room now. It wasn’t much of a stable compared to what she’d been used to, but she didn’t seem to mind it. I minded trying to scrub the dung stains off the hardwood floors but, well. We were both alive. That was worth all the rest of the — no pun intended — shit I had to deal with.
It was pretty wild how fast things had changed. One zombie, two zombie, three zombie, apocalypse. If Josie down the street didn’t have such a big greenhouse, I didn’t know where I’d be.
Even that greenhouse couldn’t support a horse, though. Which meant it was time to get the tractor and get moving before the seasons decided on changing.
Bessie tried to shove her nose in my pocket as I left, looking for sugar cubes or carrots or who knows what. I let her. Eventually, she withdrew and blew a big, disappointed horsey breath all over me. Her big brown eyes were accusatory, like I hadn’t given her my only precious apple yesterday. The things didn’t grow on trees.
Well. Not anymore they didn’t.
“Don’t throw any parties while I’m gone,” I told her. Then I kissed her nose and jangled out the door, my keys clacking against my chainmail breastplate.
( Keep reading )
Fandom: Original
Relationship: Horse Girl & Apocalyptic Commune Runner
Prompt: 8.3 Apocalypse
Rating: T
Warnings: Zombies.
Summary: Horse girl meets apocalypse and reflects on communism.
I’d been lucky. I’d still been on horseback when the first one showed up. I’d been over the fence of the arena and clattering down the road home while the rest of my class got their throats torn out.
Bessie lived in my living room now. It wasn’t much of a stable compared to what she’d been used to, but she didn’t seem to mind it. I minded trying to scrub the dung stains off the hardwood floors but, well. We were both alive. That was worth all the rest of the — no pun intended — shit I had to deal with.
It was pretty wild how fast things had changed. One zombie, two zombie, three zombie, apocalypse. If Josie down the street didn’t have such a big greenhouse, I didn’t know where I’d be.
Even that greenhouse couldn’t support a horse, though. Which meant it was time to get the tractor and get moving before the seasons decided on changing.
Bessie tried to shove her nose in my pocket as I left, looking for sugar cubes or carrots or who knows what. I let her. Eventually, she withdrew and blew a big, disappointed horsey breath all over me. Her big brown eyes were accusatory, like I hadn’t given her my only precious apple yesterday. The things didn’t grow on trees.
Well. Not anymore they didn’t.
“Don’t throw any parties while I’m gone,” I told her. Then I kissed her nose and jangled out the door, my keys clacking against my chainmail breastplate.
###
( Keep reading )
