Facing a fireball and living to tell about it wasn’t in John’s plans for the day.
When Fireballs Collide – Fiction Writing by S. H. Marpel
And there came another one.
Right against the car we were crouched behind. We were stuck behind a red subcompact, a recent American model. Here at the Los Angeles Observatory parking lot. The night was clear, a very rare occurrence, very unusual for this city of smoke and fog. The stars above mirroring the endless street and building lights that marched out to their California coast.
Getting pummelled by red-orange fireballs behind this car couldn’t last forever. Especially since they smell of sulphur like a whole case of rotten eggs being broken at once.
Big, really huge fireballs had been coming at them for something like 15 minutes. Heat and stench. Coming one right after the last one.
The red car was shaking like it would never stop. It was going to need a paint job after this. If they could stand the smell to get it into the shop.
Jude and Sal were there with me. Hunkered down like I was. At least I was in my blue jeans and work boots, gray sweatshirt. Sal was in her regular tailored beige suit with gold pinstripes, low-heeled dress shoes. An outfit more ideal for turning heads on Rodeo Drive instead of crouching on dirty asphalt and gravel in a remote parking lot. Jude was at least better off in her black jeans and a tailored black leather jacket, with her clunky black Timberland boots. (OK, she likes black. And looks good in it.)
Admiring these two beauties wasn’t helping to get us out of this.
“Hey, can’t we just teleport out of here?” I asked, behind my sweatshirt sleeve covering my nose..
“If we were able to concentrate. Not when they are coming a few seconds apart,” said Sal.
“And it’s all I can do just to keep this car in one piece,” said Jude.
“Wait, that explains how there was suddenly this car appearing on an empty parking lot.” I replied.
“Just keep it quiet, so I can keep on keeping it there, in between those fireballs and us,” said Jude.
“With that noise, I’m surprised we can think at all,” I added.
“Wait. That’s it! It’s how we are thinking…” Sal said.
At that, Sal suddenly stood straight up and walked out away from the red car.
“Hey – you. Fireball Guy. Yeah, that’s you. Is that all you got? Really?”
And the fireballs started coming right at her – all in a row and streaming right at her, twice as many more than were coming before at us.
But Sal just stood there.
And the fireballs passed right through her. She flinched at the first ones, but after a few of them she just stood there. And started laughing. Complete glee.
I thought she’d lost it. But her actions gave Jude enough time to disappear the car and get us out of there.
The scene shimmered, like usual. Fireballs, parking lot, all of L. A. just disappeared.
The post When Fireballs Collide – Fiction Writing by S. H. Marpel appeared first on Living Sensical.
from Living Sensical https://ift.tt/2qkc6b2