He whipped an iron bar from the forge, holding its glowing red tip mere inches from my sweating face.
“But every fire goes out… and what you get left with is weak and brittle.” He began pounding the bar his speech punctuated by each swing of his massive hammer, “if you want something durable, tough, useful… well you need to work it.”
A super short story for Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction challenge where the prompt word was ‘Flames‘.
This one… is not my best. I think there is a good metaphor here, I just couldn’t get it to work right. I’ve also abused the rules of English punctuation to get this to fit into five sentences, which is never a positive sign.
Oh well, maybe I’ll revisit it.In any case, check the other stories here!
(And leave a comment or a like, I love to get feedback :)).