Char
Flash fiction. Sonia tiptoed across the charred rubble that was once her neighbourhood.
Sonia tiptoed across the charred rubble that was once her neighbourhood. No building remained intact. Collapsed ceilings buried burnt furniture, children’s toys, and unrecovered corpses. Newly stray dogs howled as they pottered around the now unfamiliar landscape, and an acrid stench pervaded the streets for a mile around.
“Tell me! Tell me what happened to this place,” Carolina demanded. She had wrapped her shawl around her mouth to protect her from the ash that scattered every time the wind picked up. “I remember it being so vibrant every time I passed it in my litter. So many colourful clothes were hung up on the lines, and the children used to run around singing such strange, enchanting songs."
Sonia saw Carolina wipe away tears. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from expressing anything that might poison their relationship, which was already as precarious as the scorched steps winding up the outside of the nearest building. Carolina had never set foot in the district, of that Sonia was certain. She had at most seen it from afar as she travelled to one of the wealthier districts. Sonia was probably the first person the woman had met who had grown up in the neighbourhood.
Sonia's mother had only survived the fire by diving out of her window on the top floor of her tenement, earning herself a broken leg in the process. Instead of being by her side, Sonia had come to the destroyed neighbourhood as Carolina had promised to pay any of her mother's medical costs. Guilt clawed at her. A week ago, she had gently suggested to her mother that she move into Sonia's own apartment across the city. When her mother refused, Sonia should have insisted. She pushed such thoughts aside and forced herself to be the passionless person Carolina expected her to be.
"Don't know, but the buildings are so cramped together it would be impossible to stop the fire spreading once it started."
"Can't you just… do your thing?" Carolina gestured to Sonia’s leg.
Sonia turned away so the woman wouldn't see her scowl. She had mentioned her power to Carolina months before, and now it was all that mattered to her. Sonia had once just been her plaything, but now she was her prized investigator. Time and time again, Carolina demanded she drop everything else and help her out. Self-hatred often flared up inside her, but the money was too good to refuse.
Sonia dutifully walked over to what had once been a tiny garden. The soil and shoots were now blanketed by ash. She scooped up the filth and poured a little water from her water-skin on it to form a paste. Then she pulled up her trouser leg, exposing the dark, indented birthmark that snaked up her calf, and spread the mixture over it.
Faces and screams and flickering flames flashed before Sonia's eyes and her leg seared with a familiar pain. She winced, but tried to focus.
One man swam to the forefront of her vision. She recognised his rat-like face and excessive jewelled rings: Marcellus, a political rival of Carolina. She saw him hiding in a dirty top-floor apartment, his expression one of terror. Down below, four thugs marched through the dark streets with torches, pulling people aside to question them. Their faces were familiar too - Carolina’s henchmen. They laughed as they torched the block Marcellus was hiding in. Marcellus fled, and the thugs ran after him, ignoring the flames that licked the wall of the tottering tenement and spread to the next one. Shouts rang out, but those on the eighth floor of a block had no means to escape once the flames reached the stairs. The nearest barracks equipped to deal with large fires was a district away, and sluggish to respond. Bells rang and dogs howled as the fire engulfed the community.
Sonia curled up on the ground, her body aching. She gritted her teeth so hard her head began to ache, too. Her employer may not have lit the fire, but she was happy to hire people who had no qualms about it. She also knew Carolina had vetoed a motion to punish landlords who built tenements too high in order to squeeze out a little more profit. Once the rubble was cleared away, those who bought the land would no doubt do exactly the same.
"So? What happened?" Carolina said, nudging her with her foot.
"You did." Sonia snarled and leapt to her feet.
I skipped yesterday’s story because I was busy. I figure I won’t be too strict about writing every weekday now that I’ve proven I can write fairly consistently and also bounce back from a lull.
If you’re interested, here’s an article about The Firefighters of Ancient Rome.
What are your thoughts on the story? I’d love to hear what you think works and what doesn’t, or how it could be improved. To me there’s something a little heavy-handed about it.