Through cobwebs of lingering sawdust he saw opportunities gone. Once he had hunger for success, for business innovation, for being an encouraging father and a caring husband. Now it was gone in his daughter’s overdose, the car-wrecking suicide of his drunken wife and the foreclosure of his carpentry business. For the first and last time in his life he lit a cigarette, and dropped it on the sawdust-covered floor. He watched as the tangerine tongues licked the remains of his dreams into charcoal and ash. Mathew Johnson found his last relief in burning gases from his own pyre.
To this picture copyrighted by Claire Fuller, I once again came back to my dark mode. I’m currently working a few days in California, but will be traveling back tomorrow. I hope to catch up a lot during the weekend.
Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers writing fiction on the same picture every week. Rochelle guides us all into this, and every week I fin pleasure in the brilliance of 100 word stories from all over the world.
January 29, 2014