This week’s photo prompt is provided by Enisa. Thank you Enisa!
Allen stirs at the embers of the fire. The flames have grown weary, flickering hesitantly and disappear. The heat still reaches out on long fingers alternating with touches of chill. Undeterred, he fans at them to coax a little more life. Tiny ashen flurries dance around him barely visible in the night.
His face shows the taste of desperation. Lines set about his eyes seem to catch every shadow the palid glow can forge. The conflict of knowing the coldness of tomorrow’s ash and hopes that the flames return fight out within his head. The only response is continuous stirring.
“Seriously, you’re making any chance of talking impossible!” Allen tries to break through the hard exterior of his enraged wife you no avail.
Yet still he stirs the embers going the fire returns.
This week’s photo prompt is provided by Goroyboy. Thank you Raymon!
“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. Have you?!” The words swim in my head.
My eyes fishing for the source, catch my wife’s unpleasant scowl.
“Yes, I heard you the first time. I’ll get to it as soon as I finish what I’m doing.” My voice responses with little impute from me. I’m totally clueless of what the emergency currently is.
“It better get done!” She still has a snarl that would make a junkyard dog cower on. “You should write down the things that need done around here! How many times do I have to say it over and over and over again!”
I pull out a stack of post-it notes. I sigh and write down ‘make a list’.
It has become quite. I look up to see her walk over to read my note.
“Funny! That’s really funny mister!” She storms off stomping her feet.
The sharp piercing of my right arm told my mind the snarling small dog was a problem. I flailed after I saw him. My car waited with a bar in the trunk. His haul of flesh will leave a scar. But soon I’ll treat him apart, casting him upon a hearth of his Hellhound brethren.