Panic at the Picnic

Panic at the Picnic
By Scott Wilson
Word Count:236

“Hey listen, the weather has been really great. Why don’t we pack a picnic basket and get into the deep woods where we can enjoy it?” Ethan said.

“Sure thing, hon,” Rose replied.

Rose bent over to pick up the large cane hamper from the bottom shelf of the kitchen cupboard. Her back creaked and groaned under the strain of this simple task. Ethan slowly walked to his wife and helped her stand upright again by pushing against her stomach with one hand while pulling against her should with the other. Rose’s backbone shot out through her blouse, just below her shoulder blades.

“I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this dear,” Rose said.

Ethan pushed at the brittle yellow discs with his bony hands, forcing it back into Rose’s clothes.

“It’s not that bad dear,” he said. “I mean, if we weren’t zombies, I’m sure that would have hurt you pretty bad.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Rose said.

Rose filled the basket with limbs from the pantry and handed it to Ethan.
“You’ve have to carry this dear.”

Rose opened the door and looked up at the dark sky, filled with thick rain clouds and lightning.

“It is such a beautiful day for a picnic, isn’t it?”

THE END