Free fiction! “Not a Drop to Drink,” an apocalyptic drabble

Not a Drop to Drink

Weatherman said it’d be muggy out. Talk about understatement. Humidity hit 100% by 8 AM and kept rising, breaking all records and instruments. Saturation weighed down the phone lines, cutting off communication. Cars couldn’t get traction to move; those already on the road slid right off.

Didn’t take long for people to drown. Every breath came with more water than usable oxygen, and by that evening, those who died outside bloated, as if found face down in a river.

Cameron huddled inside his house. He’d known this would happen. Six dehumidifiers barely kept him dry.

Then the power went out.

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