Centre-stage, she spoke loudly, enunciated clearly.
“They said the screams of the trapped were heard over the roar of the flame and the crashing of burning timber. They said the first thing the throng outside smelled was the smoke. They said the taste of hot air and the aroma of burning flesh mixed in their salivating mouths, succulent spittle of the accumulated agonies which forced many to vomit at the realisation of the meaty taste their mouths savoured.”
She stopped talking and her head slumped to her chest.
The silence grew in texture, solidifying, slowly encroaching, like the darkness.
Neville Hunt over 2 years ago
Powerful stuff, Drew. I can smell and taste the atmosphere.
(Now I seem to have survived the winter blues I promise to read all the other 'Apartment' drabbles. It's a lot to catch up on, but I'm sure I'm in for a series of treats! :-) )
Drew Martyn over 2 years ago
Haha, thanks Neville, it's good to have you back, you've definitely been missed. SAD is a horrible and debilitating thing, I am so grateful I don't have to put up with it. But I'm glad you're feeling better :)