FLASH FICTION
We wouldn’t have made it to the end of the first week if it hadn’t been for Stuart. I used to criticise him for being so anal: so pedantic, always penny-pinching. He was always going on about the cost of living. It was bloody infuriating.
But his attention to detail was what saved us. When everyone else was running around terrified out there, fighting over the last loaves of bread on supermarket shelves and stepping over the bodies in the aisles, we were safely locked away.
Stuart saw this coming. Smartarse even modelled it on his bloody computer. He showed me how the outbreak would inevitably become an epidemic, then a pandemic, then something worse. Typical bloody accountant. No emotion. He went out to the cash-and-carry with the business card and brought back enough foo
