The Last Homo Erectus [MW2017].

The elders looked down upon the hirsute carcass of the last Homo Erectus.

First came the Neanderthals from the West of the valley, and then came the Cro-Magnons from the East of the valley.
An elder from each tribe began to turn and prod the body.
An Elder of the Neanderthal tribe began to sign and sing:

It is forbidden to harm his kind, for they are nearly extinct ...
And if you break the law,
It's punishment or war!

To this the Cro-Magnon elder replied:

Where is your proof that we harmed him?
Maybe your tribe broke the law!
And it's you who want the war?

Then the warriors behind the elders started weighing in, and they began to point their spears at each other.
The central fire next to the corpse began showing the naked muscular arms and torsos of the Neanderthal warriors, while the opposite side flashed tawny leggings.
Wolves howled in the darkness, hyenas chortled at the wind, and lions triumphantly roared their kill at the moon, as the elders and hunters debated deep into the night.

By morning's glow, they decided that each camp was guilty.
The corpse had a club wound from the Neanderthals, and a flint wound from the Cro-Magnons.

By then the body was covered in dew, and the face had gone pale.
In fairness, it was decided that each camp would choose a warrior, and they would fight to the death.
This had to be done in a sacred male cave.
Thus the adult males from both camps stood up and walked away, their clubs, spears and axes rattling as they strode.

Once they had left, the embers of the fire turned to smoke in the morning sun.
The rigid body of the ape-man lay twisted and frozen, like an unchewed mammoth coat.

Then came a Neanderthal woman, hopping as a leaping toad beneath her morning pelts, and then a Cro-Magnon woman, virtually naked, dancing and twisting up to the corpse.

Both stood side by side and began to roll the corpse towards the river below the cliff.
The roaring of the nearby waterfall was so loud that the last Homo Erectus barely made a splash before the body flushed downstream and disappeared beneath the torrent.

Then both women began to sing:

My husband he must never know,
I met you at the river:
One sister stole a club,
And one sister stole a flint.
We're both off to a cave
To make a reddish print.

The End - Non-Writer.

You are a very good writer, HOM.
I love your choice of subject matter.

Really, every great piece of literature should begin with a corpse.

Thank you.

It's my entry for the October ATS Short Story Competition.

The theme is "Murder Witness".

So I guess it has to start with a corpse!

www.abovetopsecret.com...

Just saying, if you like the story check out the scoring system, and gimme a bump.

Oh man I was right there!

A nice little glimpse indeed, and it was just how it should be, a few words with so much telling. And the right amount of imagination for a really cool subject.

Its inspiring to see such a little piece done so well.