He came in at 1:30 a.m. He’d done a 4 to midnight tour; late shift.
Sandy always waited up for him. She could never sleep when he was at work.
Baking and ironing kept her preoccupied until she’d hear the key in the door.
An enormously tight hug let her know it had been tough night. She could smell smoke in his hair.
He rambled on about the fire. Six children died. He repeated it several times. Tears flowed down his face. We couldn’t get them out. We could hear them scream. We just couldn’t get them out.
Genre – Flash Fiction
Word Count – 100
The challenge is to write a story in 100 words – beginning, middle and end
with the photo prompt.