playing with fire

This week I chose as my theme the element of fire. Here’s the 15 words that I chose which inspired my current story snippet….

the words:


and here’s the story snippet that I wrote…..using those words:

“playing with fire”

she knew she shouldn’t have

o p e n e d

the tiny ancient

but her impulsive nature took control
of her actions

she couldn’t resist
taking one peek
at the * s p a r k * of enchantment
contained inside

she gasped as she saw the vivid luminous ball inside

“one touch, that’s all” she told herself
as she reached for it
knowing that wouldn’t be enough

the heat of magic tingled on her fingertips
as she lifted the feather weight sparkling ball from the box

the ball rose
a few inches above her open palm
hovering for a moment
then it shot across the room
to the west
to the east
to the north
to the south
then up
to the ceiling
then down
to the floor

as she watched it
she realized
that the little ball of enchantment
so long contained within the tight confines of the tiny trinket box
was instinctually seeking
its primal need
for freedom
searching for pure adventure
looking for a space
to escape

she chased the ball
trying to catch it as it
bounced around the room
showering a spray of sparkling shimmers of light
with each bounce

it hit the mantel above the hearth with such force
the candles flickered and swayed
and a bundle of sage
tumbled to the floor
beside the fireplace
catching a spark of fire
it incinerated into a burst of flame
quickly smothering
filling the room
with its smoky scent

the ball ricocheting off the cast iron pot
bubbling and boiling with heat
causing the spoon inside
to pick itself up
and stir
the pot

it bumped
the open pages of a spell book
illuminating the passages
with a splatter of light
lifting a few incantations off the paper
sending them in whispering drifts across the room

it bounded
and slid across the floor
rushing past a broom
which shook the dirt off it’s skirts
before sweeping across the floor in a swirling dance
chasing the dirt and dust

it banged
a crackled painting of a white owl under a full moon
causing the bird to blink and turn its head
toward the commotion
as a few drifts
of clouds slid
across the

the ball
at a standstill

h o v e r i n g

at the keyhole
of the heavy oak door
too large to pass through

she grabbed the open box
and slowly stalked the ball

and as she neared

the ball transformed
into a whirling twirling
funnel of light
slipping away
sifting through the keyhole
as it headed off to create mischief
in the tiny little town

she knew
it wasn’t over
she knew
the tale had just

Written by Susan Eileen Jizba
Weaver & Wordsmith….the Weaver of Words

…………….weaving fibers & fables………

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