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Weekly Contest #343
I’ve had my eyes fixed on the molten orange light from inside the kitchen window since the sun went down. In fact, I can’t remember if the chair below me was always this dusty, or if I’ve been collecting soot from the bonfire a few feet away. I can’t even remember a time when that bonfire was just wood and newspaper. The ash from the newspaper has settled in the pool, tinting it with a gray haze. I press my eyes shut and the dry warmth beneath the lids is extinguished at last. When I open them, she’s there again. I curse myself for thinking ...
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