Was reading Ray Bradbury's Zen in the Art of Writing. Wrote this. :D

She needed to go; mother kept saying no. Hours and hours, she swayed back in forth. Coughing, her chest rumbled and eyes watered. From inside the house, her eyes bulged as she gazed out the window.

“Why can’t I leave?” she asked.

“Doctor’s orders honey”, her mother replied.

Back and forth; sleep and wakefulness. Shook, trembled, shivered and spat. Every nerve twitched.

“I need to go.”

“Sorry honey.”

Her fever grew and she curled on the floor.

“Please mama.”

“No my love.”

Her mother watched as her torso spontaneously combusted into large red flames. 

The End

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