This is for Jane Dougherty’s second microfiction challenge. The word she’s given us is retribution.
Photo ©Jimmy Fell
We’re burning them all. That’s what the Reverend said to do, and he’s right. They’re an abomination. Under that perfect skin, it’s just wires and bits of metal. They don’t even feel like we do. “Designed to give pleasure, not feel it”, that’s what he says.
This one’s a corker, though. Blonde hair, blue eyes, gorgeous. Came from some rich boys’ club, down west. Just like a real woman, they say, only better, because there’s no nagging or grumbling. Just “Oooh, that’s nice” and “Oh, you’re so amazing”.
So when she holds her arms out to me, I think “What’s the harm?” – cos no-one can see us in here. I’m strapping her in place, ready for the bonfire to start. Outside, I hear them gathering: mums and dads, kids, grannies and grandads. All here to see the fun.
So I lean in. I want to see what those rich boys get. And it’s amazing – I can see why blokes getting hooked, bankrupt themselves so they can keep going back for more.
It’s when I try to pull away, I realise. She’s holding me. I’m trapped.
That beautiful blue eye – that’s going to be the last thing I ever see.
Version 2
I wasn’t quite happy with it, so i’ve done a little editing.
We’re burning them all. That’s what the Reverend said to do, and he’s right. They’re an abomination. Under that perfect skin, it’s just wires and bits of metal. They don’t even feel like we do. “Designed to give pleasure, not feel it”, that’s what he says.
This one’s a corker, though. Blonde hair, blue eyes, gorgeous. Came from some rich boys’ club, down west. Just like a real woman, they say, only better, because there’s no nagging or grumbling. Just “Oooh, that’s nice” and “Oh, you’re so amazing”.
So when she holds her arms out to me, I think “What’s the harm?” – cos no-one can see us in here with all this wood and crates and stuff round us. I can hear them gathering, all around us, but we’re invisible.
So I lean in. I want to see what those rich boys get. And it’s amazing – I can see why blokes get hooked, bankrupt themselves so they can keep going back for more.
It’s when I try to pull away, I realise. She’s wrapped herself around me. I can’t pull free. I’m trapped.
And then I hear it. She’s laughing.
Sarah writes poems 
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Well, I suppose he’d think it was a wonderful way to go…
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Going back with a critical eye rather than just enjoying the ride, I wonder why the bonfire is ‘inside’ and people are gathering ‘outside’ to see the fun. I understand he has to be on his own to have his fun, but you have a bit of a problem then with getting the bonfire pushed outside, and presumably lit with him stuck in the ‘angel’s’ arms.
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The lure of beauty is strong isn’t it, most interesting take on the image Sarah
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Tantalizing clues to a different order of things!
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I wanted more words!
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I think there is a sequel in the works.
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Just seen the second version now I’m doing the round up, and I think this one works better. There are no technical nits in it that I can see, it has a nasty creepy feeling to it, and leaves with reader wanting to know what happens next. Nice one.
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Thank you. I took your feedback on board, it was really helpful and made a lot of sense. Much appreciated.
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I’m glad it was helpful. It’s so much easier to see the possibilities in other people’s writing 🙂
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Pingback: Microfiction challenge Burning Angel: the entries – Jane Dougherty Writes
Great stuff! That laugh at the end–shivers. The story is like a Twilight Zone episode. I can picture the whole scene.
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Oh, thank you. It felt like cheating to remove the original story, and I was also interested in how it changed with feedback from a “critical friend”, so I’m sorry you had to read 2 of them!
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I liked them both. 🙂
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