“It has that old world charm.”
“It smells like death.”
Anise inhaled the bitter air. Remains of buildings, and their citizens, dusted the ground in an ashen snow storm. In the distance an alarm still blared, signaling catastrophe. Something sweet and savory mingled with the distinct smell of smoldering wood.
“Do you smell that?”
“Delicious.”
The sweet smell pulled Clove and Anise forward. In the center of the destruction a small bakery’s ovens hummed away. An old woman pointed her cane at the creatures.
“You. Are you responsible for this? Have a cinnamon roll, I fucking hated this place.”
Word Count: 99
For the flash fiction challenge at Carrot Ranch
Ha! Out with the old! Great twist (kind of like a cinnamon twist).
Thank you! Glad you liked it
This was fun!
Thank you!