Flash Fiction #131 – Locusts

It had been a particularly bountiful crop season that year, for all the families. How that sun had shown on the golden grain.

“We won’t go hungry this year,” Mama said.

The locusts came soon after, turning daylight into darkness. I can still hear the flutter of their million wings, and feel the prick and crawl of them on my skin. In hours, not days, the harvest was gone.

So many families starved that year. Not ours.

Mama kept her promise.

We ate the locusts that year and our bellies were never fuller.

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