Smoke Bomb, Sunset, Forest Fire

Despite the car chase, the teens laughed.  They shared smartphone footage of sparks and colored smoke, bright against the tree-lined canyon, in 30-second stories. They didn’t know the flames about to crown treetops and scour every leaf, branch and hiding place on the river, leaving avalanches of ash.  Photo by Matt Howard on Unsplash

September means shelter

The bullies swaggered in. Hidden, Lon watched, retaped his sneakers, and thought.  School meant free meals, and something to sit on. Lon would pay with new bruises from the bullies, bathroom stalls and blacktop, the shame of D’s and F’s. It was all Lon knew, so he entered, too. Photo by Feliphe Schiarolli on Unsplash

I Don’t

The bouquet bit Tina’s palms; the sun burned through her veil. At the altar, she remembered the lipstick stain and unfamiliar phone number, discovered in last week’s laundry. “I do,” he said, too lightly. Her mother swooned at her reply. Photo by Shardayyy Photography on Unsplash