In our quest to encourage creativity, we post a writing prompt every other Friday. Write a story with the prompt as the first line. Share your story below or on social media using the tag #FirstLineFriday. We can’t wait to see your stories!
Flames licked the side of the shed, gathering heat as they rushed towards the weather-beaten hideaway. Max and Charlie looked at each other in a panic.
“What do we do?” cried Charlie, stumbling back from the angry inferno.
“Run!” yelled Max, suddenly remembering the gas containers hidden in the shed’s corner. The two took off towards the river, coughing and stumbling as smoke poured in after them. Max fought his way through the trees in a fury. Whoever set their sanctuary on fire knew what he and Charlie were trying to find. As the two friends threw themselves into the water, Max felt determination settle over him. He and Charlie would figure out what happened the night his sister disappeared, no matter what.
Flames licked the side of the shed, gathering heat as they rushed towards the weather-beaten hideaway. It’d been eight years since the divorce, but somehow John found me again. My white roses cracked, falling to the ground, and the strawberries bled onto them. I cried as my garden became engulfed too. Everything I’d worked so hard for, to get away, to make a new life in Norway, was gone in an instant. Peeking from behind a pine, I scanned the porch for him. Suddenly, I felt a warm liquored breath on my neck and the hairs on my arms stood up. My nails dug into the tree bark unprepared for what might come next.
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