The Block Fire

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
More a description than a story, per se. Wanted to test the waters before posting anything big. Please tell me how I can improve!

Submitted: March 01, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 01, 2017



   Flames blazed across the block; smoke, the fire's carcinogenic cousin, snaked and trailed its way in wisps to a central puff half-resemblant of a wheezing smoker's pipe ring. Trees outside were caught in its fiery tendrils, sparks leaping like squirrels from branch to leafy branch. Tongues of destruction licked at the very foundations of the buildings, quickly rising through wooden planks as they sought out the path of least resistance, a flaming thunderbolt rushing upwards in an internecine bid for freedom. Soon, the entire block was engulfed in flames, each black hand reaching out with tentative fingers to delicately stroke the clouds far above. The sky had filled with the fire's blood, billowing up and spilling out in coils of dark, cancerous gas.
   And, just as suddenly had the fire started, so did the heavens part to cleanse the apartments of their scorching sins.
   A brief war raged. Fire and ash hissed and spat at the remorseless attacks, attempting in vain to avoid its greatest rival. Lightning crackled. Thunder boomed. The flames screeched against its oppressor, desperately clawing at the sky for mercy. But, as all things must, the bloodshed came to a close; the tenants were evicted, sworn to return once more; and the landlords, ever-knowing, ever-present, reclaimed their abode, victorious.
   The buildings, unaware of the battle that had just been waged in between their walls, stood in the sound of silence, both charred and soaked, blistered and irriguous; the masonry was crumbled, the windows blown out, the furniture smashed and the rooms dishevelled. Barren and desolate, all signature of life had been erased with a violent and capricious rubber.
   And, down on the cobbled courtyard, where the ash settled and the rain pooled, and the two melded together in a black amalgamation of fire and water, lay a single spent cigarette.

© Copyright 2019 Avery Greyfield. All rights reserved.

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