#ThursThreads, week 82

Prompt: http://siobhanmuir.blogspot.com/2013/08/thursthreads-challenge-that-ties-tales_8.html

Everyone was dead, but that wasn’t really the worst of it. I’d killed them, after all, and I was a misanthropic sociopath, so the world was a better place, in my opinion. And my glasses had broken, but I only had a slight astigmatism, and I hated reading fucking self-indulgent novels anyway. The worst part wasn’t even the zombies, because they at least ate the rats. Or the monsoons, because they turned the Sahara into a swimmer’s paradise. Or the endless reruns of Mama’s Family on cable, because that shit was funny. Or the way I’d killed my ex Jimmy, coming on to him and then pushing him off a cliff, because he was a dick and afraid of heights. Or the way I’d killed my ex Marla, by setting her on fire, because she was a jackass and always cold. No, the worst of it was that I was finally, for the first time in my life, about to get a goddamn moment’s peace and quiet, and that’s when someone knocked at the door.


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