PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
She set the pages right in the flames of the burner, hoping to silence the voices, the quiet ones as well as the loud ones. Then, exhausted, she stumbled to the couch, trusting the fire to consume what she had fed it. Fire, though, it might start on one thing, nibbling at first, then gulping greedily, but then might move on, leaving untouched tidbits and strewn crumbs behind.
The firemen would discover her lifeless form on the couch, in the kitchen a melted pill bottle and enough charred remnants of her writing that a small voice could yet be heard.
Written in response to Friday Fictioneers, November 17. 100 words.
A tragic end.
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That’s what they say. Thanks for visiting.
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A sad story touchingly told.
Click to read my FriFic!
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Thanks Keith.
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How sad – and what a poignant final paragraph!
Susan A Eames at
Travel, Fiction and Photos
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Thanks. Thanks for coming by for a read.
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Dear D.
Sounds like a terrible way to go.
Welcome to Friday Fictioneers.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Hi, thanks for coming by. Yes, I finally gave it a go. I have a hard time responding to photo prompts I’ve found, something about the visual being too much of an influence, but I managed something this week. Thank you for hosting!
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How sad.
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yeah…
Thanks for coming by and reading.
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The tragedy of mental illness.
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Yup.
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You’ve written a nicely paced tale, about a tragic event. Well done.
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Thank you. I appreciate the comments.
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Great story. Love the imagery and the pacing. You should come check out whatpegmansaw.com on Saturday morning. It’s a 150 word prompt based on Google maps. You’re a hell of a writer.
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You’re a hell of a morale booster. Thanks.
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Loved the way you worked back round to the voices. 😀
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Thanks, I am pleased to have you by for a read and appreciate the comment.
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This is so sad. I wonder if the voices came from her journal, a book she was writing, letters… Great Take on the image!
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Thank you for coming by and reading and commenting. It means a lot. I love your wondering… not letters, but some sort of writing.
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I love the full circle of your story, you can’t escape from your own voice.
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I think that is what I was trying to say. Thank you for the comment.
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A tragic tale, indeed.
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Yeah. But a bit survived. Thank you for coming by.
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Glad that most writers don’t go that far to quieten the voices otherwise we wouldn’t be here reading. Loved that there was still enough that a small voice could still be heard.
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Well howdy, Irene. (My cat is beside me. Should I be alarmed?) I enjoyed your twisted take on this prompt. Thanks for visiting.
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Hi D. I don’t think you need to worry unless you pet against the fur. This can cause burning by friction which can be quite cataclysmic.
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You really are firing on all cylinders! Thank you for your spontaneous comments.
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