I bought the one that said “Corona Extra” on it because it looked cool. Now that I’ve got the place to myself, I decided I wanted to be able to make a small fire on the back patio for those cold evenings when I needed to be comforted.
“Ouch! That’s hot!”
It’s the first time I try lighting a fire in the urn.
“What did you say to me?”
“I said the fire’s hot.”
“But that’s what you’re for, to burn a fire in. Look, it’s a cool evening and I’d rather enjoy a warm fire while sitting on the patio.”
“Too bad”. The thing actually closes its mouth and smothers the flames. I toy with the idea of calling over my next door neighbor to witness this strangeness but decide against it.
“Oh don’t be surprised I can talk. You’re so lonely, you’ll believe anything can keep you company.”
“Call your son and his wife. I’ll bet they’ll be glad to bring the grandkids over.”
“But I thought…”
“Just because you’re divorced, doesn’t mean your kids don’t love you anymore. Go on. Make the call.”
I pick up my cell and the urn goes silent forever.
I wrote this for Sunday Photo Fiction – March 5th 2017 hosted by Al Forbes. The challenge is to write a piece of flash fiction no longer than 200 words based on the photo prompt above. My story is 199 words.
To read more stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.