Life had been difficult since the Pytharga invaded. Humanity held on, proving more resourceful than the alien Snails expected.
“I hate it when it rains,” said Georgi. “Perfect weather for the Snails.”
“I know,” said Nadya, gazing out rain-streaked kitchen door. She placed dinner plates for both of them.
Georgi scowled at his dish. “I miss things like salads.”
“I know, but at least we’re still alive and eating plenty.”
“Yeah, but it’s the same thing every day.”
“Please, give thanks, can’t you?”
Nadya offered the gravy boat to Georgi. “More chocolate sauce for your snail steak?”
Written for the Friday Fictioneers: https://rochellewisoff.com/2020/02/12/14-february-2020/