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.

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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!

Condemned

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.

“Fire!”

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 Pexels.com