Flannery O Connor's Narrative Fiction

“Is this on”, Connor said while cleaning the dusty lens. “Day 5 in this deserted wasteland. It’s been 30 days since the tragedy.” Connor looked around finding for food. In the distance he saw a tree or what’s left of it. There were no leafs just a skinny brown branch. Usually insects would gather near trees. Connor lifted the camera. His foot kicked the thick brown dust as he sprinted towards the tree. The tree was on top of a long, tiring hike up a rocky mountain. It seemed as if it touched the clouds. He could barely see the tip of the mountain. “UGHHH….” Connor shouted as he stumbled on a rock. He fell onto his knees. As he got up he heard a car rev. The wasteland is covered with dust but somehow he saw a man waving. It was so dusty he

He would build a fire place to cool himself in the night and blow it out when it was dusk. Food was scarce. He had to hunt for food. Mostly he would eat insects and if he was lucky he might get actual meat. Surprisingly ants doesn’t taste too bad. It’s crispy and it has a little juice to add the flavor. Anyways, he was halfway to the man when he heard the roar of a thunder. Thunder in this wasteland felt like days. It wouldn’t end and when it did, everything would be covered in dust. Piles and piles of dust can be seen from a distant. Walking became exercise as it was thick. Finding food is like a finding needle in a haystack, impossible. He quickly ran to a small cave nearby. It wasn’t the best but he knew it would do the job. He placed his backpack on the ground and took out a blanket. He needed to cover his head from dust. He came all this way just to find food and indeed he found it. The storm started. He couldn’t hear anything but whooshes of dust passing by. He sat down and ate his food. Looking towards the sandstorm he did not see much but a massive tornado filled with dust and lighting coming out of the dark grey