MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “fire”

Cat on fire

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She sat on the balcony every morning among the plants breathing in the morning dew and fresh air. It felt nice being outdoors, even if this was on the third floor of a city-centre apartment. This was her ‘outside’.

The days passed calmly, as they do for an indoor cat.

But there was one day when something extraordinary happened.

Her housemates left early in the morning to “run errands”, as they told her. They reassured her they would be back soon as they had left their food baking in that square thing in the kitchen that heated up real fast and they called an ‘oven’.

It was hot that day. She realised it, as there was no fresh air, not even in the shade provided by the plants.

And all of a sudden, it happened.

Black smoke began filling up the house and causing an increasingly suffocating atmosphere.

She found it hard to breathe and snuck further behind the pots of the leafiest of plants. It didn’t work much, as the smoke intensified and there was a pungent smell that hurt her nostrils.

After a while, she heard commotion, but it wasn’t from inside the house. Her housemates had not yet returned.

And then, the sirens. Loud and shrieking, piercing her ears.

The door breaking open and five tall men, dressed heavily with helmets and bearing a long rubber hose that began to shoot out water. Voices shouting at all tones all at once, people moving in and out of the house, staring at her hiding behind the pots.

The smoke dispersed but the smell remained. She tried to go into the house to see who these people were and what happened, and that was when her housemates arrived and she could hear their voices break with agony.

One of them picked her up and clenched her in her arms. She said it was to reassure her that everything was all right and she was grateful nothing had happened to her. But the black cat knew that the hug served more as a comfort for her housemate, to loosen the tension and calm her nerves.

She had survived a fire.

To her housemates, she was the luckiest cat alive.

But to her, they were the lucky ones.

Not what you’re expecting

©Ronda Del Boccio

Life is full of surprises”. It was the phrase that he remembered most from the first book he read as a child.

They weren’t always good ones, but something unexpected always happened.

Just when you think you’ve got things straightened out. Just when you think you can finally take a breath and relax. Just when you’re calm. Right then something happens to remind you that there is nothing routine about life. You can never plan anything.

And just anything can happen. At anytime.

Like that fire that broke out in the middle of the night and burnt the forest down.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Scorched earth

https://www.google.gr/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=imgres&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjZ6un5rL3cAhULU1AKHdXNBXYQjRx6BAgBEAU&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.elenifourli.gr%2Fh-anoipoth-thlipsh-ap-tis-fonikes-pyrkagies-sthn-attikh-se-fotografies%2F&psig=AOvVaw0aBq1bLtvd1eC4h-VZrPBy&ust=1532714596008839It is something you hope and pray you will never have to experience. What others do not even wish upon their foes. It is something you cannot even bring yourself to imagine. You read it in history books and saw it in movies – the volcanic ash burying an entire city alive in Pompeii in 79 AD – but you never thought it would happen so close to you, or rather to you.

You looked away when in movies people were burnt alive. Or were screaming because they were drowning. But now. Now it became a reality, developing right in front of your eyes. A raging fire aided by gushing winds and, suddenly, property became ashes and lives disappeared within seconds.

You didn’t want to even think about what it was like to lose everything. Now you have to answer for yourself.

You were looking forward to a summer, one that would create new memories, not one where you would consider yourself lucky if you even survived it.

‘Painful’ cannot even begin to describe it all. Whatever others say, do or act will never appease you. It won’t bring anything back. It won’t make anything better.

You lie on the ground outdoors on a rugged blanket someone donated. You look at the starry night not because you’re out camping or because you want to, but because there is no other option and there is nowhere else to be.

And all you can do is hope.

That it will not rain.

Destruction in the dark

dale-rogerson4

©Dale Rogerson

They had gone to the exotic island looking for calm, relaxation and an escape from everything. Instead, what they found there was far from it.

As the full moon rose behind the clouds, sirens were heard – police, firebrigades, ambulances, you couldn’t tell.

Natives said they never before had seen such a destruction. A fire raging in the centre of town, people screaming, panicking, not knowing what to do. Viewing the commotion alone was enough to make you agitated, even if you were just a bystander.

For days, stories of witnesses, of survivors, of victims’ relatives would haunt everyone’s TV screen.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

 

Tracing fire

water drops on faceIt all begins at the head. Most things do. It is the source of everything. The thoughts, the images, the fantasies, the emotions. And when something like that sticks to it, especially on a sizzling summer day, everything simply heats up even faster.

It forms on the sidebars of your forehead. It appears without you even knowing it. You never even realise it is there until it starts to move so slowly you can barely feel it. It trickles down your cheek, caressing your neck like a silken scarf. It tickles your shoulders as it continues to seduce its way below, licking every inch of your burning body. It rages on its downward path, tracing fire as your body burns, ready to explode. By the time it embraces your legs it is has almost disappeared, evaporated in the mist of your vigor.

And you are left steaming under the scorching temperatures, wondering how a single drop of water can have such a powerful effect on your entire being. The greatest things, perhaps do indeed come in the smallest packages…

The tree that continued to burn

burning_tree___better_by_schorschi19There was once a tree in the middle of the forest. It wasn’t just any tree. It was tall and sturdy, with its branches extending over an entire perimeter. In bloom, it was the most beautiful tree in the forest, visible from miles away. From above, pilots flew around it in circles as it appeared like a lily in a pond of frogs.

The tree knew it was extraordinary and that it was admired for its exquisiteness. It took care of its body, assuring enough sunlight and water reached its stem and leaves. Yet soon, attention gave into narcissism. And the tree became so vain it repulsed the forest animals and bugs. No one wanted to be around it anymore because it had become so obsessed with itself. With its looks, with its bushy appearance, with its dominance in the forest. The other trees were overshadowed by this one, as it stood tall and swayed in the direction of the light, hungrily consuming the sun’s rays, while its deep roots lapped up the majority of the water in the soil.

Soon, the tree had ruthlessly devoured most of the nutrients and elements required for growth and the forest was starving. The other trees had become feeble and dried to the point that they were withering away.

The forest was resembling a patched blanket as the trees perished leaving behind gaps of rubble where they once stood. Yet the conceited tree remained firm in place, concentrating for itself as many nutrients still remained.

One day, a mocking jay flew above the forest with a sparkle on one of its legs. The tree looked up and smiled, jeering at the bird for its meagre appearance. At that moment, the bird dropped its sparkle right onto the tree.

It was a small piece of burning coal.

With water being scarce in the forest, the tree too was becoming severely dehydrated and it was not long before it caught on fire. Its abundant branches ablaze, the tree could do nothing other than watch itself burn. The fire had rapidly spread across the forest gulping up any remnant of a tree that it found in its way. Now all that remained was a towering tree in the middle of scorched land, glaring from the intensity of the flames.

The tree was too proud to call for help. So it kept burning.

For days, weeks, and months it burned. It combusted even when it thought there was nothing left to consume.

When it decided to curb its egotism and finally call for help, it was too late. It no longer had a voice with which to yell. And anyone who saw the great tree aflame in the once forest, thought it was too late to save it. So no action was ever taken.

The tree learned the hard way that some things should be more carefully considered. And it vowed that if given a second chance it would do things differently. It would use its strength to protect the forest instead of contributing to its demise.

When everything seemed lost, the mocking jay returned.

As soon as it flew over the tree, the flames were miraculously exterminated. And by the time the tree thanked its dear friend to whom it also apologized for being so inconsiderate before, a green shot bulged from the carbon-infested tree trunk.

The tree was given a rare second chance. And it was determined to live up to its vow this time.

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