Waiting For The End

This post is submitted to Friday Fictioneers.


It was a cold March day. Patches of snow still remained from the harsh winter. That was nothing new here in the desolate southwest desert. Living conditions were hostile for plant and animal life. The lack of vegetation had exposed the the ground to extreme denudation.

Dirk had made this his home for the past three years. Existing on trash thrown from passing vehicles on the nearby highway or occasional forays four miles away at the interstate exit where the giant green dumpsters were like dining at five star restaurants for him. The end was near and he knew it.





  1. Good story and writing, Danny. It made me wonder what drove him to live like that. He really needs help but it seems unlikely he’ll get it. He’s probably right. He doesn’t have a long life ahead. —- Suzanne

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Almost sounds like a prepper to me, preparing to survive some holocaust nuclear or otherwise. Only he forgot to prepare, or he ran out of what he had. Or perhaps he is waiting for the end of days, and resigned or even hopeful on that account.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Okay, lots of “why” here. Why is he content to live this way? Why has he removed himself from everyone? Why does he thing “the end” is coming–his end? The end of the world? Is he sick?

    It’s a good story when you can establish so many questions 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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