Judgment Day

The harvest fires came early, leaving the fields of the world devoid of crop and man. The remains of the once proud fields, the hardhearted stubble clawed at their desolate heir in his escape. They begged a miracle, whimpered a prayer for salvation, but he paid them no attention, gave them no thought. He left them bloody footprints torn by their oblivious desperation. He left them a trail to what he thought was the last stalk in the field, which is where he found her- a girl shivering among the flames under two limp stalks of wheat supporting each other.