MicroHorror

Streetlights were switched off to conserve power, they said. Streetlights were switched off to save CO2 emissions, they said. But I knew the real reason that once again, darkness was free to stalk suburbia; darkness and greed.

It had begun with the meltdown of all they held dear. The few had wasted and devoured the wealth of the many and these creatures of finance and power had not only been tolerated, but lavishly rewarded for their selfishness and arrogance. Now that their promissory note was worthless, the only things of value were solid artifacts for exchange and barter. Civilization, once plunged into darkness, soon reverted to type.

The night creatures thought no further than themselves, and deemed tomorrow’s security of greater importance than today’s needs. Under cover of darkness they took what they pleased and they were prepared kill to do so. In that, they resembled the financiers.

I warn them, but they do not heed me. “There will be no pockets in your shroud,” I say. “A loaf of bread or a kindly deed is worth a bag of gold.” I am outlawed here because I laugh in their face. They know me but they dare not speak my name.

Time predates. Age is our pall.
This creature towers over all.
Death defines life. They
follow one master;
greedier, faster;
FEAR.