Flash Fiction- A Dying Fire

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The fire was flickering. The storm outside was very strong. The old oak tree outside the house was shaking vigourously. It was the same tree she used to sit beside when she was a mere child. She vividly remembers reading and writing under the shade of that tree. Infact, her first ever written work was inspired from it. It taught her to appreciate art. She learned to admire herself and her art, her passions under the gaze of that very tree. Whenever she used to feel depressed and there was no one to hold her, it became her strength. She used to hug it and feel the love that a child receives from her mother. Today as she lay down snuggled up in her thin blanket all the memories came running back. Her life reflected itself in the mirror of her eyes. As she travelled through her memory lane, her coffee mug lay empty on the bedside. The shards of glass were splattered all over the floor. Her messily braided hair were brushing her cheeks slightly. She looked like a worn out fox with silver eyes. A proud fox who lived her life all alone in the forest serving and receiving from the woods- her only home, her safe place. And with a single howl of the wind it was all over. Her fire died. The rise and fall of her breasts stopped. The thoughts, the memories, everything came to a still end. But the sound of the running water and the creaking chair continued. The noises remained but nobody was there to listen to them. They were the voices of her silence. A final crying kiss for her longing soul. It rained. And what was left behind was just her memories and the green eyes of the watching oak filled with tears. No human may ever remember her but the oak tree that saw a life sprout and grow will always remember.

When a person dies, an entire world is destroyed with them. The world they saw through their eyes, the world they built in their minds, the world that had their heart. But there is only one thing that remains. The mark those people leave on a much bigger world. The mark they leave on somebody else's world. No matter how many worlds are destroyed, life prevails. The older worlds pave a way for the newer ones. And thus, the never ending process continues.


-©Pratibha Badgal AA

Hello everyone. So, I wrote this flash fiction today by combining together a bunch of prompts I found on Pinterest. I'll be posting a poem inspired from this storyline. It will also be titled the same. Stay in touch. Kindly provide your veiws on this piece. If you have any suggestions or recommendations feel free to suggest. It is not necessary that you upvote. But you can always comment and show your love. What matters is the response I receive not the amount. Thank you for reading and being patient with me. Lots of love. Stay healthy and happy :)

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