“It will never burn. It’s stone and concrete. People don’t build monumental buildings to burn easily these days,” Trent commented.
“Well they used to and this building is pretty old. I’d say it’s eighteen-hundreds,” Chip guesstimated.
“Yeah, I took some art history so I’d know. Burning this building won’t destroy the whole thing, but it will burn a lot of history within. Maybe it’s like the White House when the Canadian’s burnt it in the War of 1812,” Chip said.
“Pffff . . . Canadians aren’t that aggressive,”Trent said.
“Oh yeah well why do you think it’s called the White House? Canadians and British soldiers burnt it and the states had to white wash it after rebuilding some parts; white washing covered up the smoke damage and scorch marks.”
“But wasn’t Canada more a British colony at that point? So, the fault lies with the British who were leading things,” Trent insisted.
“Many of the soldiers identified as Canadian, Trent,whether or not they were led by Britain; the States shouldn’t have tried to take the Canadas, as upper and lower Canada were known then.”
“Um, that’s a great history lesson but why do you want to burn this building?”
Chip’s eyes grew dark, “Some people just like to watch the world burn; but I’m okay with one building . . . to start.”
Friday Frictioneer’s is a Flash Fiction photo prompt, completed in 100 words.
Addison felt she never had a place to call home. Her Mom abandoned her family. Her Dad an oil worker, sent his three children enough money to pay rent, some food, some water, and some electricity each month; he never visited.
She paid bills online in the school library; her family had a tight budget. Providing clothes or school supplies for herself and her siblings was difficult. Addison lied about her age and waitressed at a fancy restaurant. When she was nineteen, the state took away Addison’s siblings.
She began dating a wealthy businessman. Addison had money to pay tuition, money to party on weekends, money to shop, and her own BMW; she even lived in a modern loft.
She wasn’t content, “No place has been home but one,” she told me.
We drove to a storage facility and walked to her unit. Opening the door she showed me a well designed and comfortable suite hidden in the unit.
“I stay her a lot,” she said sniffling and sat on the bed, crying. I tried to comfort Addison.
It’s only, some people never receive out of life, what they truly need.