Writing

The Fire Whisperer

No one knows how the fire started, and even how it stopped. Everything happened too fast.

The village was quiet that night. Not many people on the streets at that late hour. Except by Brandy Brady, the town’s official drunk. The bar had been closed for almost 2 hours, but Brady was still wandering around, talking to the wind, even on that still night.

Then the houses were suddenly set ablaze. First one, then the next, and the next, until the fire had spread throughout the entire village and all the houses became a huge pyre.

People were awekening amidst the flames and trying to escape their houses as not to be burnt alive. It was so fast that by the time the fire department was notified and came, all was finished and consumed by the fire.

No one saw him, except again Brady, but later no one would believe him.

He was sitting at a bench at the other side of the road that circled the village, looking at the fire in deep concentration. His lips moving slightly, as if he could speak with the fire and control it. The flames ran fast bringing everything down with them, turning all to ashes. When they reached the road, right in front of his bench, they went down. Immediately. As if someone had cut the gas on a gas stove.

He got up and walked away.


This post was written based on the prompt Fire, from Writer Write’s October prompts.

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Writing

My drops of tears I’ll turn to sparks of fire

He hated Shakespeare! No one ever knew why, but he did, indeed.

Maybe it was the fact that he had to study all of those plays and sonnets at such a tender age. With the thou’s and thy’s and all those fancy old words that no one speaks anymore.

Then, when he went to drama school, that was all they wanted to play. He played Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet…

He couldn’t stand it anymore!

But after school, finding a real work was really hard. He started doing small jobs here and there while waiting for the big opportunity to act on a real play.

The invitation has finally come!

But, whadaheck… He was being called to play Queen Katherine in Henry VIII play, at the Globe.

Really? Shakespeare? And a woman character???!!!

He really needed the money, so he took the job, with tears in his eyes.

Opening night, house is full.

Then, when they got to Act II, Scene 4, he proceeded with the famous quote:

“My drops of tears I’ll turn to sparks of fire.”

And so he seems to have done. As soon as he said the verse, the theater burst into flames.

globetheater


This post was written in response to the Sunday Photo Fiction, with the photo prompt that pictures the Globe Theater in London.

According to Wikipedia, “The Globe Theatre was a theatre in London associated with William Shakespeare. It was built in 1599 by Shakespeare’s playing company, the Lord Chamberlain’s Men, on land owned by Thomas Brend and inherited by his son, Nicholas Brend and grandson Sir Matthew Brend, and was destroyed by fire on 29 June 1613. A second Globe Theatre was built on the same site by June 1614 and closed in 1642.

A modern reconstruction of the Globe, named “Shakespeare’s Globe”, opened in 1997 approximately 750 feet (230 m) from the site of the original theatre.”

And that’s the one portrayed here and where my story takes place… 

Also, at Shakespeare’s time, all actors in a play were males, even the ones representing the female characters.

To check other stories inspired by the same picture, click the blue frog below:

Writing

Catching fire

“Mommy, mommy, look! The tree and bushes are catching fire! Look, they’re all yellow and red and orange.”

“Oh, sweetie-pie, that’s not fire, it’s the leaves changing color for autumn.”

“Changing color?”

“Well, every year we have 4 seasons. Remember Winter? We went skiing and built a snowmen?”

“Yeah, it was cold!”

“In Winter there were barely any leaves. Then Spring brought them back. With Summer, the heat of the sun made them gold. Now, they’ll crumble and fall again for Winter.”

“So they ARE burning?”

“Yeah… when you put it like that, they are indeed burning! Just not catching fire.”


This post was written in response to 2 challenges, that had similar picture prompts this week, and contains 100 words.

100WCGU, with the photo prompt below:

catchingfire1

And Sunday Photo Fiction, with the picture:

catchingfire2

 

To see other stories inspired by this picture, click the blue frog below:

 

The picture that has actually inspired me for this text was the one for 100WCGU.
The initial idea I had for the Sunday Photo Fiction was different, so I may choose to write another piece for those, if I find the time this week.