Smells of Sadness


I find smoke a familiar scent.  Log fires of old.  Coal of industry.  That Vichy smell of oil and burning flesh.

But it’s different this time.

Made out of stone, I do not fear the flame, but I smell the salt of tears as if I were placed near the sea.  Don’t cry, little people, for time is long and your lives short.  I was made to protect you, to give you comfort, joy, and peace.  Don’t let me haunt your dreams, for I would be better consumed by fire than drowned in the sadness I swore to stave off.


This week, I chose to do my prompt showcase on Thursday so as to make use of a Wednesday prompt!  This was written for Bikurgurl’s 100 Word Wednesday, and I’m thrilled to see that I got to respond to a Parisian tragedy through this prompt.

If you want to join in on a prompt, Bikurgurl’s photo-based prompt is easy to join in on!  Just leave a pingback to the post.  Make sure to tag your response with 100WW or #100WW so others can find it!


photo of gold ammunitions on wood

I feel like a traitor.

There had been a military tribunal, and the officer acting as judge declared guilty.  Death by firing squad.

I take a deep breath while the soldiers line up.  What a way to die.  Every soldier was given a gun with a bullet, some blank while others are deadly.  But someone has the gun which will kill.

“Aim!” an officer shouts.

I struggle to keep my eyes open.


I pull my trigger, and the man drops.

Was it my gun that held the bullet that killed him?

Did the judge know he’d condemned me?


This was written for the March 4th Carrot Ranch prompt, “Fire.”

As a brief update, I am finally returned from my sojourn to Orlando and the ACS conference – maybe I’ll be more available again!

Photo by Ivandrei Pretorius on