Burnt

Technically, this isn’t actually fiction but has been written as such. As you can see from the photograph (above) that I have taken, a line of leylandii trees have been burnt. I don’t know the circumstances of what happened but as this is a down a side lane, my suspicions are foul play. Obviously, I didn’t tell my daughter this as I don’t want her already over-active imagination conjuring up malicious arsonists running around the neighbourhood.
Unfortunately she was quite unsettled by the sight and every time we’ve passed it on our way to school, she has asked questions or commented on it. I try as best I can to answer her and try to soothe her worries. I could have chosen a different route to school but this is the quickest way and I feel by avoiding it, I am reinforcing that there is something to fear.
The following piece I have written about this week. At first, I was going to write it as a poem but then I decided it was better written as prose in the form of flash fiction (250 words).

Burnt

We stopped in our tracks as we saw the line of trees. Their green had been stripped away. All that was left were bare black limbs and the lingering stench of smoke.
Her steps were hesitant as she walked by. She kept her distance as though she feared the flames would rekindle on the passing wind. I gave her hand a squeeze as I saw the worry fill her eyes.
Questions began to flow and none of them I could answer. What happened? Who did this? Why would anyone do this? She asked me about all the creatures that made those branches their home. I didn’t tell her that they had turned to ash.
I urged her on until we turned a corner. Though the charred remains were no longer in sight, she kept looking over her shoulder as they lingered on her mind. As she tried to comprehend the destruction.
The short walk seemed longer and I was glad when we reached the school gates. The bell rang and it brought her instant peace. She dashed towards the safe haven of her friends and lessons. The distraction lasted until the last ring, when we had to walk back the way we came.

In the evening, she asked if we’d walk that way again. It’s the way we’ve walked every weekday since we moved here. I told her yes, that there was no need to change. I wasn’t going to let fear consume her like the fire did the trees.