Note: I wrote this very short story in a rush–a few hours in a single day. Vocal.media had a short-story challenge with a grand prize of $20,000. I figured ‘why not?’ and submitted this. The prompt was:  “Write a short creative fiction piece, no longer than 2,000 words, about a post-apocalyptic dystopia. . . . The only requirement is that your story must include a heart-shaped locket.” (DL, Sept. 12, 2021)

“Careful, Nour,” he said to her as she picked her way along the beach. Eyes scanning the ground in front of her, she dutifully acknowledged her father’s warning. “Yes, Baba.”

The day was hot. High sun showered her head with heat, barely kept at bay by the bright hijab wrapped meticulously around her black hair. The light was dazzling off the white sand. She kept her gaze low, a shading hand at her brow to save herself a headache later. They didn’t have long before Dhuhr, the early midday prayer, and Baba was seldom late.