Use the photograph above as the inspiration for your flash fiction story. Write whatever comes to mind (no sexual, political, or religious stories, jokes, or commentary, please) and after you PROOFREAD it, submit it as your entry in the comments section below. There will be no written prompt.
Welcome to the Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Challenge. In 250 words or less, write a story incorporating the elements in the picture at left. The 250 word limit will be strictly enforced.
Please keep language and subject matter to a PG-13 level.
Use the comment section below to submit your entry. Entries will be accepted until Tuesday at 5:00 PM Pacific Time. No political or religious entries, please. Need help getting started? Read this article on how to write flash fiction.
On Wednesday afternoon, we will open voting to the public with an online poll so they may choose the winner. Voting will be open until 5:00 PM Thursday. On Saturday morning, the winner will be recognized as we post the winning entry along with the picture as a feature.
Once a month, the admins will announce the Editors’ Choice winners. Those stories will be featured in an anthology like this one. Best of luck to you all in your writing!
Entries only in the comment section. Other comments will be deleted. See HERE for additional information and terms. Please note the rule changes for 2016.
Chuck leaned over the railing and dropped the extension hose into Tyler’s outstretched hands. Neither of them noticed the woman standing in front of the store front across the street, watching. Her teeth were clenched as tight as her fists, hoping they wouldn’t find it. She crossed the street and leaned her head against the building and prayed.
Tyler turned and headed for the basement door followed by Chuck. Smoke began oozing out from under the door. The handle wasn’t hot. That was a good sign. Carefully, they opened it and entered the basement. The smoke was coming from a canister sitting a few feet away.
“Wadda ya make of that?”
“Some kook looking for attention, I guess.”
“Think we should vacate the building? There are a lot of agents working here today.”
“Let’s check a bit further.”
The clock, set for 3, was sitting on top of the boxes stacked on the gas tank. It was 2.59.
“Look at that sign! ‘For my husband, murdered by the anti-terrorists in this building. Long live……………’”
All shift long, Charlie the firefighter had been on the backs of everyone to make sure their gear was just right. The Chief came over to him, “Charlie! The crew is worried about you, please take it easy on them. Ok!”
Charlie ignored him and double checked the hoses and then loaded extra oxygen tanks on the back of their hook and ladder. He had this weird funky feeling. He knew the Chief would spill his coffee and George would trip over the boots before it happened. Charlie even sensed the last run was a waste of time because some toddler dialed 911.
But all that changed when the fire alarm rang and they scrambled to go, go, go. On the back of the truck, Charlie’s stomach twisted in his gut when he sensed they were going to a nursing home, “Bill, when we get there grab as many oxygen tanks as you can and follow me around back.”
Bill nodded and just looked at him kind of weird, “OK!”
Their truck screeched to a halt, they jumped off. They grabbed their masks and gear and hot footed it around back. Sure enough, they could see the patients lying unconscious in the smoke filled activity center. Someone had locked the sliding doors to keep them in.
Charlie smashed through and started pulling patients out, while Bill gave them oxygen. Charlie kept racing back in to carry more out; finally, he found his Mom and he carried her to safety.
My duty was over. In a relaxed mind I was leaving my office cabin. Just then, a message came:
URGENT: – Fiery smoke broke out in the nearby school’s basement.
Our fire-fighting team was busy in another case. I asked control room for help. They assured, they would send a team within five minutes.
I could not wait, summoned my assistant executive.
— ‘Hi Sir’
— ‘See the message. We must act right now!’
— ‘But, field-team has not yet returned’
— ‘Couldn’t we face the fire?’
— ‘But sir, you! —’
— ‘I must go there. Follow me if you could’
— ‘Sure, sir’
We drove the fire-truck to the spot in no time.
I suggested, ‘Connect the hose. Quick!’ and entered the danger zone with few select tools. Dense dark, suffocating smoke; scorching heat. But the generous heart overpowered all. I noticed faint sounds— a lady, ‘Save the child…for God’s sake, help! Help!’ then a little girl, ‘Jesus! Help my teacher!’
Tracing that sound I stumbled upon a wooden wall. I thought the victims were behind that partition. I smashed the wall with an axe. And,… nothing more I could sense.
Next morning, a gorgeous lady, with a little girl, came home to see me.
My assistant was there, said, ‘Sir, this madam had helped me to find out and rescue you from the spot’
We looked each other and said ‘Thank you’ we both at once.
“Give me another length.”
‘Scout’ Williams shouldered the bundle and ran back the way he had come. Hoses criss-crossed the road like spaghetti. Firefighters dragged the heavy lines, quietly cursing to themselves, sweat stinging their eyes. Others set ladders and rigged ropes. It looked like chaos, like someone had poked an ant hill, but to Scout it was ballet.
He dumped the hose on the ground and began attaching the couplings. “Think this’ll do it, Cap?” he asked without looking up.
“It better.” Time was running out. They all knew it.
Scout watched the Captain survey the scene and give the order, “Hoist away!”
Ropes tightened, pulleys groaned and the network of hoses rose into the air.
Connie Turcotte was the Department’s first female Chief. As a firefighter she had been just as tough, and twice as determined as her male counterparts. She had to be. And in a profession known for practical jokes, she was one of the best.
Meetings, she wouldn’t miss those in retirement, Connie thought, as she turned the corner toward Head Quarters for the final time. She stopped her car in the middle of the street.
Suspended from lamp posts and telephone poles was a perfect spider web of fire hose. Her chair and desk, surmounted with her white Chief’s helmet sat in the center of the web. Beneath, fifty grinning firefighters snapped to attention and saluted.
For the first time in her career, Connie ‘the Black Widow’ Turcotte thought she might cry.
“Drop that hose here, Ryan. Hook it up fast. I want to wash off the road and get out of this uniform.”
“I hear you. Having to wear the oxygen tanks as well isn’t fair. How did we get stuck with solo clean-up duty?”
“You know darn well why. How did you ever talk me into a lime Jell-O balloon toss?”
“Everyone at the street festival had a blast, especially with the Jell-O balloons. Food scraps are everywhere. This is more than just our mess. The rest of the squad should be here.”
“Well, maybe if you hadn’t smashed a balloon on the captain’s daughter they would be.”
“She sure looked hot in that white dress, soaked and clinging to her skin.”
“You mean green and sticky. I’d rather face a five alarm fire than the flames in the Captains eyes. Jenny may never speak to you again.”
“I don’t know, James. There she is now.”
“Hi, boys. Either of you need a drink? Got some fresh lime-aid.”
“If you made it, Jenny, I’d love some. Sorry about your dress. Hope there’s no hard feelings.”
“Of course not, Ryan. You were just havin’ fun. James?”
“No thanks, Jenny. Hey, Ryan, you okay? Your face is turning bright red and your eyes are watering.”
“Oh dear. So sorry, Ryan. I must have gotten some ghost pepper in that lime-aid you just guzzled. Hope there’s no hard feelings.”
“Wow, that’s hot stuff, Ryan. Good thing we have a fire hose.”
The fire truck screeched to a stop. Joe jumped out tossing a hose over the barricade. Donny caught it on the run. With streets jammed and revelers anxious to watch the fireworks there was no way the firemen would get any closer to the building. Donny strained against the weight of the hose. He could see smoke billowing off the roof. People around him pointed skyward and children waved sparklers in the air.
Independence was great but he had a fire to fight, “Coming through,” he shouted, “Coming through.” Two firefighters raced into the building knocking on doors and checking for fire on each floor. Luckily, almost everyone was outside on an evening like this. At the roof access the firefighters paused and called down, “All clear so far.” Then they started up the last flight of stairs.
At the top four little boys stood mesmerized, watching as white-hot flames danced before their eyes. One of the fireworks had landed a little too close to home. The black cannon ball was warm, but it wasn’t until they pried it open and poured out the phosphorus that the excitement began. They looked at the mound of powder and wondered, “What would happen if. . . just as Bobby pulled out a lighter. The powder went up like a torch. They used damp leaves to smother the flames and smoke billowed skyward.
Danny took in the scene and grabbed the hose. Danger averted, a Fourth of July to remember!