Ficly

Outside

Fear followed me into the kitchen this morning. She was wearing grey, as usual, and grinned as she sat down across the breakfast table from me.

“Hope,” she said, chuckling, “do you really plan on going outside today?” She reached across the wilting flower centerpiece and stole a piece of my toast.

“You know I do,” I said quietly.

“But why?” She shook her head. “The outside killed Faith and Charity. They walked out the door and never came back.”

“You don’t know for sure,” I said. “Besides, everything I could ever want or need is out there.”

“What do you need that you can’t find in the house?” She raised an eyebrow.

“We barely get any sun. There’s nobody but the two of us. Literally everything else in the world is out there.”

“It will kill you, though.”

“I’m not so sure.” I pushed my chair back. “I’ve seen glimpses of it from the porch and I don’t think that’s true at all.”

She smiled. “You’ll be back soon enough. You’ll come running home to me.”

“I don’t think so,” I said, pulling the door open.

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