Clouds taunted during the day. A few trees with dusty leaves survived. My horse hung her head as she plodded behind, too spent to wander away.
We crossed a channel once feeding the swollen sea. Boats littered the ground near a dock. One, secured by chain, hung vertically. I rummaged for plastic water bottles amid the craft, but they’d been scavenged.
My bitch, when she stopped scratching fleas, nosed lazily for scraps. I’d found her as a puppy and named her Luck. Figured she was my best chance at ever having any. Should have named her Hope.
Friday Fictioneers: 100-word story
Earthbound, the 300-word version I wrote for a daily flash contest requiring the words flea, horse, and boat.