‘That’s the trouble with these old stone houses. They’re built like forts, to keep the enemy out. But once the enemy is within, it means it’s difficult to escape. Little slits instead of windows, only one door. You know, they used to tax homeowners based on the number of windows in their house, so everyone started bricking them up.’
She smiled, the flame from the lighter flickering on her face. ‘And you thought it would be romantic.’
She dropped the lighter into the pool of petrol and closed the door.
‘Don’t worry, the smoke will kill you before you burn.’

Written as part of theย Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more detailsย HERE).ย The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).
To read stories of 100 words based on this weekโs prompt, visitย HERE.
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