Seagulls used to be harmless, little things, just … kicking disconsolately through the sand, like wind-up robots. Used to just pick at washed up seaweed and detritus. Used to.
When mutant gulls chipped their glass-sharp beaks into knives on the rocks, I cried, “Stay in! Stay in!” but nobody would listen. Heat and tide rhythms lulled sunbathers into nightmares from which they would never awaken.
Bloody beaches, the birds’ butcheries! Quick heads flit from side-to-side, waddling between rows of human litter, judging which of us are dead enough to eat.
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Raised in Michigan, now Californian, Duncan R. Bowsman has written plays and short stories since childhood. He has also published text-based adventure games and other playable fictions in varying genres (including horror, science fiction, and comedy) since 2008. He blogs at http://dbisvirtual.blogspot.com/.CARRION GULLS by Duncan R. Bowsman,