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    Wayne Gray
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Story Prompts/Ideas - 2. Joe

Prompt: Write a story about someone who has to begin again. This beginning can come from tragedy, opportunity, restlessness, or a mixture of any/all. Chose a protagonist we don't often see in such a position.
I picked a 52 year old, single guy who had to start completely over. What does a man do when he loses everything he has known, and has to begin a new life away from the comforts of his old routine?

The initial confusion of awakening quickly gave way to a jolt of adrenaline as the orange glow and crackle of flames jarred Joe to consciousness. He threw back the covers and stared out of his window.

He owned a hundred and fifty acres of land. A huge mono-crop of corn grew out in his fields, and he was only a few days away from a big harvest. The growing season had been good to him, and he was sitting on a bumper crop. Now, that same crop that had held so much promise was fueling the biggest fire he had ever seen.

He felt the warmth of the blaze that burned in his fields even from the window. As he watched burning embers, pushed into the sky by updrafts produced by the fire that created them spread out in a fan of more promised destruction.

Where's Tux? Perhaps it was odd, that his first concern was for his resident half-feral barn cat. He shoved on his work pants, threw on a shirt, and pulled on boots in less than a minute.

Running through his old farmhouse, and outside, he held up a hand and grimaced. The heat was incredible, even though there were two-hundred feet between him and the edge of the field.

Maybe I can save the barn. He looked at the structure, a few football field lengths from the house. The fields butted up to the barn, with only about eighty feet between the flames and the old wooden structure.

Joe leaped on his tractor. Starting the machine, he drove toward the barn. Luckily he had left plow attachment on the front from some work he had done on his road, and he squinted as the temperature increased.

Hope this works. Joe dropped the blade of the plow and dirt began to build in front of it, sliding along the edge of the attached sheet of curved metal.

"Ah. Damn." His eyes watered from the heat and Joe held up a hand to shield his face. It felt like walking into a furnace, and he wasn't sure how long he'd be able to take being so close to the flames. He focused on the job and chugged along between his barn and the edge of the field.

The plow created a little fire break of sorts, turning the dry grass under the earth.

Joe gritted his teeth, then pulled the tractor behind the barn. He had intended to make another pass, but the little hairs on his hand had curled from the heat, and he wasn't sure the fuel tank on the tractor could survive a repeat trip through the gauntlet.

He leaped off of the machine. "Tux!" Joe ran into the barn. "Where are you, you aggravation!?" Joe heard the plaintive cry of a cat in distress above his head, and he grimaced. "Of course!" He climbed the ladder as fast as he could go. There was a spot Tux loved to hide back in the far corner of the loft, and sure enough Joe found him hunkered down there.

"Come on." He scooped the terrified cat up into his arms. The black and white feiline sank his claws into Joe's flannel covered shoulder, but he didn't feel that at all. "Hang on."

The crackle and glow of additional flames were in his peripheral vision as he descended the ladder. The barn was on fire. He was going to lose it.

Joe exited the barn, put a hand on his cat's back to hold him in place, and he ran for everything he was worth. In the span of a few moments he had gone from trying to save his barn to the realization that his very life was on the line.

A wall of flame roared into life behind him as he left the structure, and there was one on his right as his fields burned. Those fields on the other side hadn't yet caught, but it was only a matter of time, as ash and sparks filled the air.

"No." The first hint of fire on the roof of his farmhouse bloomed in the dark of the night. Joe changed his flight slightly to run past the home. He pelted by it, on the way to the only possible safe spot he could think of.

"Sorry, Tux." Joe waded into the small pond. The apology wasn't needed, as the cat was far past caring about water. He took them both into the pond until only his head and shoulders were exposed.

There, Joe watched as his whole life burned.

This story may or may not go to completion. I already have a lot of projects, but I found the prompt engaging.
Copyright © 2019 Wayne Gray; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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I have seen so many stories on the news about people who were in similar situations. There were people who drove through flames to escape fires (in the ’91 Oakland Hills Fire as well as several more recent ones). I remember hearing of a group of people who survived by jumping into a pool or pond.

When the fire sweeps down from the hills, pushed by very strong winds, you only have seconds to leave. Spraying your house down with a garden hose will give you a few seconds, maybe. It’s better to gather important documents and photographs and leave immediately!

Make sure your fire insurance covers the replacement cost, not just the value of the house. And make sure your insurance company will cover your costs for the entire time it takes to rebuild your house. If there’s a disaster that destroys entire communities, there will be a shortage of qualified construction workers and things will take much longer than usual.

A fifty-something year old man, having done one thing his entire life, his (maybe) sole companion dead: that could -- scratch that; would -- feel like the end of the world for him. Assuming, and it sounds cool on this path too, that the fire was an act of God, then it's even harder. The man's sad, angry, he's lost everything and the only thing he can fight back against -- no pun intended -- is like punching at smoke.

A friend in another part of the country. The Southwest -- New Mexico? A counselor the encourages him to start his life over, but he's wondering what life is left. At the insistence of the friend -- a male friend? -- he strikes out for a new start?

The obvious connection reestablished. The kindling romance of what their friendship was and what they both secretly wanted? Deserts have fires all the time. PTSD? Learning to live again with the only helping hand he's got? Maybe the friend has his own scars? A veteran?

I see a lot of potential here. If you go down this road, I'd definitely be down to read it.

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16 hours ago, Bft said:

Best friend’s sister brought home a black and white kitten that she found at work, the kitten was only supposed to stay for the Easter holidays, she named him Tux and he lived with them until he died of old age 

That should have been My best friend’s sister.  Tux had black fur but had a little white patch of fur on his neck which is why Vicki called him Tux, it looked like he was wearing a tuxedo 

Edited by Bft
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