LIKE AN ERUPTING VOLCANO, THE BEACH HOUSE EXPLODED.

            As if in slow motion, they turned around.

            “My. Babies!” Gabrielle cried out. Then she received a hard jab to her shoulder. Gabrielle fell. With all of her might, she crawled to stand. After another blow from the glock to her spine, Gabrielle again fell to the ground. John ran forward and kneeled behind Gabrielle to protect her. He held her hands at her waist. And as they melted with the sand, they watched.

At first, the garage appeared to be on fire for quite some time. The flames had traveled to the two front bedrooms, the Jacuzzi, and the living room. The windows had shattered with the inside still engulfed in heat, black smoke, and fire. Through the glass doors, they viewed the orange flames trailing the ceiling through the kitchen and into the den. The flames inhaled and exhaled¾as if in waiting¾and they watched, while the fire had a rhythm all its own. And then it spread to the other side of the house. The children’s bedroom and playroom flashed over and blew.

Then, the glass door that Bernadette had left opened shattered.

            John turned Gabrielle to face him. “Gabrielle!” He shook her.

Falling Roses copyright ©2005-2007 Rosemarie Piemonte, All Rights Reserved.