I can definitely say that this is the latest I’ve ever posted a Friday Fictioneers story. I’ve been the first one before, so now I guess I’m trying to be the last. I started a new job today as an ESL Instructor at a university in Iowa and also moved into a new place this weekend, so I’m hoping after this to finally settle down to a routine. This summer has been quite crazy in many ways. I apologize that I have not been able to read many stories in the last few months. I will try to be better about that from now on.
I would say that this story is weird, but that describes most of mine. I’d say it’s different, but . . . again. Read it and tell me what you think.
Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Memory Flames
When I first saw it, it terrified me. I had emerged from subterranean haunts far below and saw it dancing a hypnotic, alien gyration on the edge of my vision.
It was the Other and as much as it repelled me, I drew closer because of a ghost of a memory long ago. It reminded me of her, before we were sundered; before she ascended and I sunk down to personify the Underworld.
* * *
Frank came back from gathering wood and froze. A shadow, like an incorporeal old man was bending over his campfire, warming non-existent hands over its cheery flames.
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The Green-Walled Tower 