We’s Just Friends

fire-roger-bultot

 

I set the bottle going and hid back out in the woods. I always liked to watch how the flames licked up the side of the door frame. It was real pretty. Like Christmas.

He didn’t come out for a long time. The fire was pretty much all over the porch by that point. He looked real handsome in his robe. I imagined him coming over, me undoing his robe and touching the hairs on his chest.

It looked like he was thinking about going back in for his wife, but he never did. That confirmed it in my mind.

13 thoughts on “We’s Just Friends

  1. My favorite thing about flash fiction is when you’re able to create a twist at the end – when there’s minimal words to begin with. Your story was scandalous & I loved it.

  2. Dear DDM,

    Add me to the list of the readers who think of the arsonist as a man. Can’t say why, but that’s what stuck with me from the start. Perhaps it is because you never hear of female arsonists. Good story from a strange perspective.

    Aloha,

    Doug

  3. I think your other commentators here are right. The gender question does lend to a huge rise of conflict and tension in the story. For some reason it is really hard imagining an arsonist as a woman.

Whatever.