Another story of revenge, and I promise that no, I am not out to get anyone. This one is response to girlontheedge’s six-sentence story prompt MATCH. If you have been paying attention the last few weeks there might be something a little familiar about this one… Also quick reminder to everyone who writes, today is the first day of Camp Nanowrimo, where you can set your own goals!
He threw the match, eyes lighting as it caught, the flames pushing back the darkness of the night. He moved away quickly, he knew he couldn’t be discovered here, but he couldn’t resist turning back a few times to bear witness to his triumph.
The accelerant did it’s job well, the house was encircled in moments, there was no way out, and it had gone up so fast there was no chance that the fire department would get there in time to stop it.
He went home, sleeping peacefully through the night for the first time in years, and when he woke, he pulled out the worn picture of the brother who had died far too young, finally able to face him, knowing that she would never hurt another like she had hurt him.
He flicked on the TV, gleeful as he heard the headline: Tragedy has struck today, as a local woman was killed when her house was burned to the ground in an apparent arson.
The news anchor continued to report as they cut over to footage of the wreckage, zooming in on where the house had been reduced to ashes, and the only thing that seemed to be untouched by the fire, was a large antique cooking pot, it’s condition only marred by hashed carvings on it’s surface.
If you have read my last two weeks of these, you probably have just realized whose house that was. Sorry that she didn’t get that redemption arc, but sometimes when you play with fire, you get burned….And so the cycle continues.