Revenge

Snippet Story

Photo by Dark Rider on Unsplash

‘What have you done?’ he said, stepping back, horror contorting his face.

She revelled in the orange glow, the smell of smoke, the wisps of black drifting up into the summer sky. Fire. There was something ethereal about it, holding her attention with an otherworldly fascination.

‘I can’t believe this. It’s criminal. It’s arson. You’re an arsonist.’

He was wrong. She enjoyed fire which meant she was a pyromaniac — not quite the same as an arsonist.

Ah, how comforting it was. A quiver thrilled in her stomach as she watched his vinyl collection, his cashmere overcoat and his precious guitar go up in smoke.