(Flash Fiction, 145 words)
The children watched it approach, a dark spot on the horizon becoming a dust cloud then a dust cloud following a truck on a road through the savannah. Others came out of the camp to watch, excited.
“It’s the NGO!”
“Yes! The NGO is coming.”
“We’re saved,” they told each other. “Food is coming.”
The children were very hungry. Malnourished and too weak to cheer, they watched the truck arrive, U-turn and back up to the people. Brisk young men and women jumped out. They set up a solar charged battery station and wired it to a TV on a table and got back into the truck and drove off. Everyone gathered around to watch the cooking shows.
In New York, an accountant looked at the bill and smiled. Giving needy people a TV was expensive. Taxpayers and donors would pay handsomely for this one.
This is my first and (probably) only Flash Fiction. What do you think of Flash Fiction?
Have you written any? Submitted any to the eZines that pay for it? Had any published?