PHOTO PROMPT - © Douglas M. MacIlroy

“It’s hard to believe it’s 45 Celsius out there” his friend said, “It looks like a Christmas Card.”

“When the fresh water ran out, they built those desalinization units,” he said, pointing at the domes stretching across the countryside. “Now the oceans are evaporating, the country’s burning and the salt and ash are drifting like snow. We can’t grow crops and had to slaughter the cattle.”

“I guess it won’t matter much longer anyway. The sun’s growing every day. We’d soon be toast.”

“More like toasted”

They giggled for a moment and then abruptly stopped, picking up their pistols. ©


Posted on Friday Fictioneers

Thanks to © Douglas M. MacIlroy for the Photo Prompt


2 thoughts on “Toasted

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