Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Knights of MicroFiction #6 - More Than A Spark

As my general post for today, I am participating in the Knights of MicroFiction bloghop.

It is (quoted from Jessica McKendry's blog) "a bloghop hosted by [Jessica McKendry] and Kathy at Imagine Today on the 15th of every month (except April, because the A-Z Challenge makes things crazy!). We came up with it as a way to meet new friends, help build the blogging community and (hopefully) spark your creativity!"

Here is my entry:


More Than A Spark

  My breathing was haggard.  The air poised to kill, it had to be.  That blasted candle.
            I held the lump of blue wax in my right hand, the one that wasn’t adorned with what felt like a million gashes.  Why did I have to steal it from the supermarket downtown?  There were plenty of reasonable things I could have swiped.  No, I shop-lift for candles, pay-as-you-go phones, and coffee mugs.  Forget the “klepto”, I’m just a maniac.
            They used to call me “Crazy Clumsy Cornelia” in high school.  Did they know then that I was destined to perish because of my flaws?  Worse than that, most of them didn’t even bother to learn my real name.
            Another wave of pain shot through my hand.  I ripped out a ceramic shard and tossed it in the corner.  The pain dulled and turned to a chill with a surge of fresh blood.  Wow, I might bleed out before I can asphyxiate.
            Heat radiating from the doorway made quick work of my bleed, thickening the maze of scabs.  I plucked out more shards.  It’s not like I had much to do but wait to die.
            I wept as I read the remains of my coffee mug: “…can prevent wild-fires.”  The first part should have said: “Only my two left feet…”  It only took a second for my candle to create a blaze fiercer than the best depiction of Satan’s realm.  Of course, I had to land on my coffee cup.  An empty, newly-purchased house with only my three most recent lifts and a tumble takes my hand, house, and life.
            What was that?
            It can’t be the phone; I already checked the battery.  A siren?
            Cough.  No!  Hack.  No!  Everything was fading.  I heard the pounding stream of water outside.  I smiled.  But it wasn’t hope that fueled my grin.  I laughed at the lustrous light that replaced the flames.  One step forward, two, three...

(The word count is 322.)

6 comments:

  1. Great story, I felt sympathy for your character and loved the use of dry humour, left me wanting to read more.

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  2. Oh, I really want to know more! You did a wonderful job including all of the objects in the prompt :)

    Thanks for participating!

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    Replies
    1. Thank you, Jess. Perhaps I'll consider expanding it or writing a prequel at some point to reveal a little more.

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  3. Great piece! Loved how you worked in all the objects. Thanks for joining us!

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