Flash Fiction Fridays, #2

It’s Flash Fiction Fridays again. 

5 words picked by a random word generator, 100 words or fewer story.  We have:  bacon, immigrant, mustard, colony, tax.

Please send in one of your own, due by midnight, Monday, New York time. Winner gets a critique of the first chapter of their WIP or poem.

     Darkness spread over the colony. The only light a gray moon and the immigrant asteroid it snared. Six months black wait for the binary suns. 

  Until then, want. Mustard sandwiches on coarse-grained bread. Gathering firewood while icewolves howl. Tornados of snow roar past, ice fields calve and shatter.

  Weddings postponed. The dead stacked in caves. Babies muffled in sooty shawls. Trapdoors readied under the hearth, families hiding from the collector’s knock. The bacon tax raised again. 

  If we couldn’t pay in kind, we’d have to pay in kin. A sow for the larders or a son for the mines.