Room for One
MONICA LYREHART
Radiation Imminent, T minus eight minutes.
Liz shoved another water jug into the shelter, hands shaking. There was room left for one adult, but it would be weeks before rescue.
She scraped everything from the pantry into a box.
Six minutes.
Sirens blared, briefly stunning her.
Deep breaths.
She secured oxygen canisters to masks and ran back.
Four minutes.
She wedged the box into the shelter, rapidly checking:
Water. Food. Waste container. Oxygen. Favorite Blanket.
Two minutes.
“Mommy?”
She grabbed Toby. Kissed his sweet hair. Shoved him in.
“Drink. Eat. Potty there. Breathers here. Like we practiced… I love you.”
Monica is a speculative fiction author, poet, writing contest goblin, and “the best mommy ever.”