Flash Fiction: Other Fires Burned

We built our alibis and watched them shrink to nothing in the rear-view mirror.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“A secret place,” you said. “A place of our own.”

You made camp by a pristine stream. I slipped a bottle of wine in the water to chill.

When it got dark, we looked at the stars and you pretended you knew their names and we both pretended we had a future together.

I gathered tinder. You’d forgotten the matches.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “There was too much for me to remember.”

We were hungry that night but not cold.

Written for Friday Fictioneers using this photo prompt:

© Jan Wayne Fields

Picture: Combustion [Explored!] by Emilio Küffer under CC BY-SA 2.0


Add yours →

  1. Loved the shrinking alibis. Masterful.

  2. Oh dear. Another one I am struggling with. Ah no, as I type this I get it…

    The matches threw me… they kept warm by hugging. Feasted on love. Phew.

    Nice one, David.

  3. That was gorgeous!

  4. Love that air of mystery about their relationship, that even they can’t be entirely honest about what they’re doing, where they’re going. Accepting the now is all they can do. Lovely writing David

  5. A truly melancholic piece.

  6. Oh, that fire. It burned, truly. Well-designed. Thank you.

  7. Those shrinking alibis sucked me right in 🙂

  8. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

    August 25, 2017 — 1:02 pm

    Dear David,

    Hungry but not cold. It was all those shrinking alibis. Well done.



  9. The passion burns hot here. I love the phrase with the shrinking alibis that tells so much. Wonderful writing.

  10. you pretended you knew their names and we both pretended we had a future together ~ my favorite line among many. Delightful write, sucked me in and spit me out. Kudos.

  11. Lovely take on the prompt. I could totally picture this

    Click Here to see what Mrs. Dash Says

  12. What a lovely passionate story… love the warmth.

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