Time for another Friday Fictioneers story. Remember, these are 100-word stories based on a photo. This is my second story for this great group, four years ago. By the way, welcome to 2017! (Yes, I know this isn’t a buzzard, but it is fiction!)
Look alive. Here comes a buzzard.
Basta!! You see me (looking dramatic in B&W, I think) and I know what you imagine: death, evil, decaying flesh.
Contemplate for a moment. Where would you sci-fi, futuristic doom-mongers be without me? Your future always holds darkness, war, and death. Bodies everywhere. So you need us. The carrion-birds. Cleaning up your messes so you don’t die of terrible diseases due to all that rotting flesh. (Zombie apocalypse people, this means you, too.) A little gratitude wouldn’t come amiss!
But instead? “Bird brain” is bad enough, but “buzzard breath” and “old buzzard?” Beyond the pale! How would you feel?
(The title is a saying by Lady Stella Reading.)