This week’s word prompt: fire.

Please post your 200 words (no more!) by clicking the comments link at the bottom of this post, keeping in mind The Rules.  Next Sunday evening 2013-08-11, last week’s winner RubeRad will read the entries and select a winner.

[Click the comments link below to read entries and discussion.]


8 thoughts on “fire

  1. Summary

    The air was still damp with night, and the sky was blue-black, but if they said it was morning then he could not disagree. As the ensemble walked outside, the man kept clearing his throat, and it sounded hoarse and birdlike. With perfect posture (even if his hand trembled) he stood in the exact center of the wall. A teenager stepped forward and handed him a crumpled cigarette.
    “Thanks, comrade,” the man said. “Could someone give me a little fire here?” There was uncomfortable snickering. The same boy lit it for him. He smoked briskly and tossed it aside half-finished. “Very well, gentlemen. Do what you must.”
    Six militiamen stepped forward and lowered their rifles at him. The commander, standing well behind them, shouted, “Ready, aim—”
    The volley echoed for what seemed like minutes.
    Finally, the sun crept over the horizon.

    1. This is much better than the old joke about the brunette, redhead, and blonde who each distracted their firing squad by yelling out the name of a different natural disaster…

  2. Salvation Has Come
    The night is far gone,
    those moments that filled our hours,
    faded, our drunken waste that bound our feet.

    We must wake, wake, the herald has cried,
    flee, fire, foes! Salvation has come.
    It is near, near, within our souls

    No twilight ‘ere the morn
    has beset us in riddles and fear.
    No, we have seen the sun rise o’er the hills.

    The day is at hand,
    this time ne’er to fade again,
    tho a battle crests and falls round us.

    There shall be no return,
    so we gird our flesh and bones
    in this armor of adamant light.

    And heralds we become as well
    flee, fire, foes! Salvation has come.
    We turn from the curse

    and revel in the day,
    free, free from death’s bonds.
    We wait our Master’s pleasure.

    Men, seek no taste of our foul days.
    Salvation is nearer now to us
    than at its first bright peals

  3. Two entries this week, very different (but both involving the rising sun, and also fire)! Pooka has crafted a poem about Salvation with some fantastic imagery. I love the idea of an immediate sunrise: “No twilight ‘ere the morn / has beset us in riddles and fear”.

    But the winner I choose is Elihu Zee. He captured my heart with the clever technique of suffusing his piece about an execution by firing squad with essence of ‘fire’, and nodding to The Rules by including the word as a throwaway, a feint to distract the eye while the real magic happens elsewhere.

    Good job both of you, Mr. Elihu Zee I look forward to your word of the week!

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