Word count: 100
They told him he wouldn’t last a day out in that God-forsaken bit of nowhere. He’d be bored to tears and lonely, they said.
He never could understand why people equated aloneness with loneliness. They were worlds apart. He was totally comfortable being alone for long periods of time; didn’t mind his own company at all, to tell the truth! He did like people, he just preferred to be by himself.
He sat there admiring the gloaming, the twilight-like light that happened at this time of year, enthralled.
Never saw them coming. Zapped him up. All signs of him, gone.
Friday Fictioneers: 100-Word Stories
Word Prompt: Copyright © Douglas M. MacIlroy