Cruel Muse Chapter Ten
- Ro Salarian
- 13 minutes ago
- 5 min read
When Val stepped out of the car onto shaking, jelly legs, the first thing she noticed was the smell. It wasn’t the pleasant smoke of a fireplace or campfire. There was a chemical edge to it, the smell of preservatives that kept the wood from decay, the smell of clothes and books and records turned to ash. Nothing was left, not even the bricks of the chimney. It was charcoal, still damp from the fire hoses that had finally tamed it.
She didn’t realize her legs had given out until she saw grass right in front of her eyes, and it confused her. She had to be dreaming again. She just had to be. This couldn’t be happening to her. This happened on television, to other people, not her. This couldn’t be her life, her real life. It had to be a mistake. Another nightmare. She was dreaming. She would close her eyes, and when she opened them, she would be staring at the familiar green shutters of the only place she’d ever called home.
It was still gone.
