Smoke

When Ernst woke, he smelled the smoke first, even before he felt the rough cord wrapped around his wrists. His eyes began to water, burning from the ash in the air.

"Hallo?" he called.

Shapes shifted in the darkness. Ernst tried to move his head, but stopped as nylon rope scraped his throat. At his back, a square post, the corners digging into his flesh despite his woolen jacket.

The shapes came forward. Books. The cover of each speckled with morphing yellow and orange firelight...each having sprouted arms and legs of black shadow. One volume of dark green leather plucked its cover open with a shadow-hand. On the open page in front of Ernst, words stood out in the flickering light.

He began to cry. The rope at his throat constricted as he gasped for air, cutting into the soft skin. "Ich bin traurig," he gasped and closed his eyes, remembering the bonfires in Berlin, the piles of smoking pages. He understood the heat that began to sting his toes.

__________

Yeah, a little preachy today. Fahrenheit 451 does that to me.

For your viewing pleasure, I present:

All of the Dead

A brilliant blend of zombies and Legos brought to you by Tim Drage and Tony Mines. (no embedding of this video, but you'll be glad you checked it out...you can download if you want)

Finally, I'd be remiss not to mention the release of the special Road Trip edition of the Monsters Next Door. The best thing to come out of my experience running cross country in high school* is within, a little story I call "The Qualifying Run". There's fiction by some good peeps inside, so enjoy.

*What, you thought it was the shin splints or stress fractures?