This is a short story I wrote a little while ago. If there is any constructive you want to throw at me then I'd really appreciate it. Enjoy!
'Mommy?' A young girl not much over 5 years old cries her small, doll like hands bunched up in the dull cotton of her mothers dusty skirt. 'Mommy, the sky is angry again. It's scary mommy!' She whines tugging on the frazzled ends.
'Mommy? Why are you allowed to wear that pretty shirt when I have to wear this boring yucky one? It's not fair!'she huffs and stomps down hard with her sneaker-clad feet crushing brittle flora under her fearsome wrath. The crackling sound resonates through the grey alleyway as the young girl jumps up and down smiling with glee.She lifts one leg onto a grey slate of concrete and grins pointing one pudgy finger into the endless darkness.
'I am your ruler,' she pauses and lifts her face towards the advancing darkness 'and you can't touch me or my mommy because if you do my daddy will come from the moon and put you in jail!' Her proclamation rises above the piercing silence and she purses her lips, just as her mother does every time she is annoyed, and pivots around to meet two narrowed brown orbs.
'Uncle Sam!' Her eyes soften and she tackles the tall male.'Uncle Sam?' The man seems to be frozen, gaze resting on the body lying on the ground, crimson blood from a wound in her chest has stained the white blouse a deep maroon.
'Isnt it pretty? I wanted one but mommy said no because of the new rules. But she has one! Did you get it for her?' The girl rambles biting her inner cheek in irritation.
'No...no I didn't...' He whispers, eyes wide and stricken as he breaks out of his trance. 'We've got to go. Come on pumpkin grandmas got some apple pie baking back at home'
'Yay! Gram is a dandy baker! Come on mummy wake up! Me and Uncle Sam are gonna race you there!'
The two stride hand in hand towards the light which slithers towards them, illuminating fractured bones from corpses thrown haphazardly across the slimy surface of the concrete. Small printed flowers from a small child's shoes are pressed into the enamel.
