This story left me breathless. I could smell the smoke, feel the heat, the urgency. Beautifully written, Justin. This line is very sobering: "I know it’ll wash away in the high tide. Won’t we all?"
I remember the old fellow who lived at the bottom of Mount St. Helens in Washington in 1980. This is probably before your time. He had a lodge, I believe. He vowed not to leave even as signs of eruption were eminent. He was never seen again. Seems that death is preferable to men like these if they are to lose their home and paradise. Maybe they have seen too much and want rest. Very well done, Justin.
James, I remember reading about him or maybe watching a documentary at some point or another. I completely understand why he would choose to stay behind—and Fletcher, in this case. Despite Fletcher’s struggles, to me, he had found his little slice of heaven. He wasn’t ready to part with it for anyone or anything.
Thank you so much for reading my story and for your thoughtful commentary!
Hey kemosabe firewater burns inside. Compass points to all directions the wind blows. Natural white lighting sparks ⚡️ and sometimes a match in the dark. No escape what is happening. Best is native trees that germinate from fires wrath. Eternal hope for renewal. Like fire I consumed your story. The wildflowers will return from the ashes.
Tough choices. Maybe Fletcher just didn't want to start over again. Brent almost waited too long. You packed a lot of drama and emotion into this short story, Justin. That's your trademark, brother.
This story gave me so much to think about, Justin. Brent is young and full of energy and of course would flee a forest fire with all his might, dog at his side. Fletcher, however, has seen it all. You write how he overcame so many obstacles, and he is now an old man. Maybe he just didn't need another obstacle. Life catches up with all of us.
That’s my thought as well, Andrea. Fletcher has seen so much (and been through so much) that he just doesn’t want to face something else. Thank you so much for reading my story! 🙏
Oh God, Justin, this is the stuff of nightmares. All of us in the West wonder when it will be our turn. Local fire departments here are encouraging people to be ready to evacuate at a moments notice. Since 2021, when huge fires engulfed the West, two in our area alone, we haven't had a major conflagration near us, nor has there been the veil of smoke all summer. We've been lucky. Maybe we paid our dues. But the firefighters don't believe in luck any more than they believe in "fire season." Get ready, they tell us. You never know when your time will come.
It’s terrifying stuff, Sue, and probably one of my greatest fears. That’s one of the scariest aspects of it for me: the fact that it can happen at a moment’s notice and change direction on a dime. I pray that future impacts are minimal and that your region remains safe. Thank you so much for reading my story!
I held my breath through this one, Justin! Feeling the anger, the pride, the panic, and Sadie’s companionship. Wow. Yes, we will all wash out with the tide, someday. I’m not there yet, but I have a fairly good view. Great story!
This story left me breathless. I could smell the smoke, feel the heat, the urgency. Beautifully written, Justin. This line is very sobering: "I know it’ll wash away in the high tide. Won’t we all?"
Thank you so much, my friend. It felt good to write something new. That might be my favorite line or two from the story as well.
I didn't realize there were other lines to choose from.
I think we all have, or should have, some principles, some values, that are more important to us than mere survival.
Without a doubt, Chip. Thank you very much for reading! 🙏
Yes. I know what one thing I, myself, would sacrifice my life for without question. Everyone should ask themselves that question.
I remember the old fellow who lived at the bottom of Mount St. Helens in Washington in 1980. This is probably before your time. He had a lodge, I believe. He vowed not to leave even as signs of eruption were eminent. He was never seen again. Seems that death is preferable to men like these if they are to lose their home and paradise. Maybe they have seen too much and want rest. Very well done, Justin.
James, I remember reading about him or maybe watching a documentary at some point or another. I completely understand why he would choose to stay behind—and Fletcher, in this case. Despite Fletcher’s struggles, to me, he had found his little slice of heaven. He wasn’t ready to part with it for anyone or anything.
Thank you so much for reading my story and for your thoughtful commentary!
Fire is one of my biggest fears, so the descriptions in this piece really struck a chord.
Thank you, Cassandra. 🙏
Being surrounded by walls of flames and caught up in one of these horrific forest fires/wild fires has to be one of mine, too.
Hey kemosabe firewater burns inside. Compass points to all directions the wind blows. Natural white lighting sparks ⚡️ and sometimes a match in the dark. No escape what is happening. Best is native trees that germinate from fires wrath. Eternal hope for renewal. Like fire I consumed your story. The wildflowers will return from the ashes.
Beautiful lines, Rich. There is always hope even in the darkest of moments! Thank you so much for reading my story.
Tough choices. Maybe Fletcher just didn't want to start over again. Brent almost waited too long. You packed a lot of drama and emotion into this short story, Justin. That's your trademark, brother.
That’s very kind of you to say. Thank you so much for reading, K.C.! 🙏 I’m happy you liked it.
This story gave me so much to think about, Justin. Brent is young and full of energy and of course would flee a forest fire with all his might, dog at his side. Fletcher, however, has seen it all. You write how he overcame so many obstacles, and he is now an old man. Maybe he just didn't need another obstacle. Life catches up with all of us.
That’s my thought as well, Andrea. Fletcher has seen so much (and been through so much) that he just doesn’t want to face something else. Thank you so much for reading my story! 🙏
Oh God, Justin, this is the stuff of nightmares. All of us in the West wonder when it will be our turn. Local fire departments here are encouraging people to be ready to evacuate at a moments notice. Since 2021, when huge fires engulfed the West, two in our area alone, we haven't had a major conflagration near us, nor has there been the veil of smoke all summer. We've been lucky. Maybe we paid our dues. But the firefighters don't believe in luck any more than they believe in "fire season." Get ready, they tell us. You never know when your time will come.
It’s terrifying stuff, Sue, and probably one of my greatest fears. That’s one of the scariest aspects of it for me: the fact that it can happen at a moment’s notice and change direction on a dime. I pray that future impacts are minimal and that your region remains safe. Thank you so much for reading my story!
I held my breath through this one, Justin! Feeling the anger, the pride, the panic, and Sadie’s companionship. Wow. Yes, we will all wash out with the tide, someday. I’m not there yet, but I have a fairly good view. Great story!
Thank you for reading, Sharon! I’m so happy that you enjoyed my story.
This story hit me hard — and I can’t even explain why. It will leave me thinking for much longer than the time it took to read it.
That means so much more to me than you know, Linda. Thank you. It’s okay to not find the words.