Written for Friday Fictioneers
Flames licked the black smoke-filled sky. Banging, crashing, the ear-splitting sound of exploding windows.
Shards of glass flew through the night air, and flaming timber fell to the ground throwing sparks in every direction.
Shards of glass flew through the night air, and flaming timber fell to the ground throwing sparks in every direction.
Then all was quiet except for the hissing of steam and the occasional crackle from inside the building as the flames continued to devour everything in their path.
A pathetic cry came from an upstairs window. The crowd gasped and all eyes turned toward the only part of the building which had so far escaped unburned.
A tiny blackened face appeared. ‘Daddy Daddy, Where are you?’
Word count 100
Shuddered at that last line--so wrenching!
ReplyDeleteThat's a sad one. Very sad indeed.
ReplyDeleteDear Keith, Good story but so very sad! I hope the fire truck and ladder truck has arrives in time and saves the child. My husband was a fireman when we first got married -also a paramedic and he fell through a ceiling once while putting out a housefire. Good job! Nan :)
ReplyDeleteGreat descriptive writing, and then a kick in the belly. Well done.
ReplyDeleteyikes....
ReplyDeleteOh no! I hope he gets out and finds his daddy.
ReplyDeleteDear Keith,
ReplyDeleteI hope the tyke's daddy is still alive.
BTW it would be easier to find your FF story on the link if you use your story URL rather than the general one for your blog. http://keithsramblings.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/where-are-you.html
Shalom,
Rochelle
I hope that there is still hope.. maybe there is a ladder coming up, and the father comes running down the street... hope hope.
ReplyDeleteWell-written horror story.
ReplyDeleteWell-written horror story.
ReplyDelete