Pebbled flames running along those age-darkened timbers. The stabs of orange issuing from the shattered windows. A peeling of something – Wallpaper? Paint? – amidst billowing sheets of fire.
And the smoke. Thick, broiling, greasy smoke, pouring out from behind doors and seeping from underneath roof tiles.
Watching a house burn is no easy task; the heat hisses and snipes as the brothers watch. They swivel their eyes in sockets drawn wide to keep them from drying out. They don’t stop looking, though.
The flames roar guttural over those dark floorboards, sucking over the cracks where secrets had sunk quietly. Curtains drip with flame where once they were drawn fast, leaving windows staring wide and mute.
The brothers watch, eyes glazed against the heat, not looking away.
*Thanks for reading, folks. My recent short stories include ‘Travelling‘ and ‘Sense of Community‘.
Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Close to the Bone, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, Flashback Fiction, Cafelit, Best MicroFiction 2021, Writer’s Egg, Idle Ink, The Wild Word, and Shooter magazine. He is a doctoral student at the University of Dundee, a lucky husband, and a proud father. He blogs at www.matthewjrichardson.com.
tremendously visceral portrayal of fire; the brothers seem fascinated; I pick up the implicit suggestion they are somehow responsible ; and those dark secrets —
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Think you might be right, John. Thanks as always!
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I can almost smell the smoke and feel the fire. It seems that the two brothers are arsonists.
Well done, Matthew, although I’ve seen too many of those when I was a fire surveyor.
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Thanks Chris. I’m consistently wowed by your varied experiences!
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My mind immediately went to, “Where are mum and dad?” My guess is they’re not on holiday; things with them are a bit heated, at the moment.
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I think your assessment might be shrewd, David!
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Once again, I’m amazed by your so successfully mining the darkest of dark sides, Matthew!
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Thanks Annie. Always a chink of light in the dark, I always think!
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Of course, Matthew. Your luminous prose always lights the way!
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