A fantastic short story – great writing.
Holding a cloth to her face, Elena crossed from the room to her father’s office, her silk nightgown too heavy for the temperature. The smoke caught at her throat and caused her eyes to tear up. It was hard to breathe… She tried not to panic; it wouldn’t help. She just needed to find her way down. But everything was so hot, she wasn’t sure where to go.
She called for help, her voice muffled by the cloth and smoke. She approached one of the windows: maybe someone would see her. She tried to grab the latch. And screamed. The iron was burning hot leaving a scar on her hand. Still she didn’t let go. Despite the unbearable pain, she pulled and opened the window. And fell. The air breathed in more fire. She screamed. She called.
“Please! Help me!”
Was she going to die? She didn’t want to die…
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