Immune, by Kevlin Henney

It must be November by now, maybe even December. I should be thankful. And I am.

I’m thankful for the silence.

I’m thankful for the peace.

I’m thankful for the space.

Yes, even after all that has happened, I’m thankful.

For the silence, the silence after the screaming — of panic, of the dying, of the fleeing, of the caught.

For the peace, the peace after the madness, after the riots, after the street warfare, after the virus that caused it all and, ultimately, ended it all.

For the space, the space to think and breathe now that everyone has gone.


Kevlin Henney writes shorts and flashes and drabbles of fiction. His fiction has appeared online and on tree, including with LitroNew ScientistEvery Day FictionWord GumboDr. Hurley’s Snake-Oil Cure and in the Jawbreakers and Kissing Frankenstein & Other Stories anthologies. He lives in Bristol, UK, and online at @KevlinHenney and

Posted on April 13, 2013, in Issue 8: Tiny Tall Tales Drabble Issue #2 and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Very poetic drabble. I enjoyed reading it.

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