Purveyor of Tall Tales.

Friday Flash Fiction: Burned

If you missed last week’s flash, it can be found here.This week’s piece was written at Eastercon for the Friday Flash Fiction workshop we ran to launch Illuminations. Not one to ask others to do what we would not, each of us wrote a story whilst the attendees crafted their own compositions.

As ever I’m not sure this works but here’s mine:

By Neil Beynon

The city burned. Fire like fingers pawed the sky, knocking down buildings in clumsy haste to grab the velvet black. Hot ash danced down alleys, coalesced in squares and throttled the hapless few.

“What happened?” screamed Amanda over the city’s howls.

“I don’t know,” said Pete. His eyes not on her but drinking in the amber riot in front of him, watery orbs listless and lost.

Amanda tugged at his arm.

“We’ve got to get out of here.”

Pete stood there, as if his feet had melted to the atrophying asphalt. Gently he removed her hand from his arm, the wedding band on her ring finger having left a blister from the heat. The silence roared over crashing steel.

Amanda paused, her eyes full of smoke, perhaps. Then she ran.

And the city burned. But she did not look back.

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