Originally this was supposed to be an entry for the flash poetry challenge, but it turned into a short story and honestly I didn't want to change it in any way. So I hope you like it: Fire.
I followed the same rules; I incorporated the 8 words provided for the theme within the piece.
- Smoke
- Inferno
- Flame
- Burn
- Flare
- Brimstone
- Hearth
- Crackle
It’s going to die soon. The flame that once blazed like an inferno has now become a whisper of the life it once held. The gentle crackle coming from the chard wood is almost soothing. I look over at the pile, or where it used to be, and my fears are confirmed. There was nothing left to burn. A window must be broken inside the empty house. The fire flickers helplessly, threatening to leave me in the cold alone. The hearth is filled with more ash than anything else, and the brimstone fills the air with the eggy small of sulfur. I feel the icy air envelope me with every passing minute. I’m starting to see my breath again. It’s only a matter of time now. Watching the flame become smaller felt like I was watching a friend taking their last breaths. The flame flares out with a final hurrah before being consumed by a plume of smoke. Just like that, I’m alone in the dark once again.
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