Sunday Photo Fiction 2-11-18

“So this is the last place you saw her? Was that last night? Was anyone with her? That’s her door at the end, right?”

Joe just shook his head, so many questions he had answers to, but after the accident, he was in shock. Now he can’t seem to remember any details.

“What’s that fire extinguisher doing down there, aren’t they supposed to be hanging on the wall? Was there a fire here? Is that what happened?” The inspector walked over to check the device, “yep, it’s been used”.

Joe was desperately trying to think of something to say, without trying to remember her face. Yes there was a fire, on her stove. She never could cook, and the gas stove was always burning something. Last night it was clothing. Why was she so careless?

“I’ll need the key to check inside.”

Joe thought he should run away as fast as he could. Would they believe it was an accident, will they blame him? He was beginning to regret calling the authorities.

Her blouse went up in a moment, suffocating smoke and flame taking her life before he could reach her.

The inspector returned. Joe just kept repeating, “her face”.

200 words

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