Tags
Fiction, flash fiction, short stories, short story, story, writing
The house was nearly complete.
The garden walls provided privacy, and the garden itself was a riot of colour and beauty. Beautiful flowers, bushes and trees, all in perfect bloom. A weeping willow hung over the pond, with a bench positioned precisely to take in the best view. From the gates, a wide gravel drive swept up, around the fountain, and up to the front door.
Inside, everything was perfectly designed. The sitting room, comfortable and cosy with a large television and comfortable sofa. The dining room, classically elegant with a dining table large enough to hold the family and several guests. The bedrooms, each with a different colour theme to suit their occupants; a princess’s fairy realm for the little girl, a riot of bright colours for the little boy, and a peaceful retreat for the parents.
She was just adding some finishing touches; a fern in the bathroom, a full length mirror in the master bedroom, a vase of flowers on the coffee table in the sitting room.
She smiled. It was a job well done, she thought, as she watched the family enter the house for the first time. They would have everything they needed.
Just then, her phone rang, and she turned away to take the call. When she turned back, she saw the perfect home in flames, and the Grim Reaper himself was beckoning to the hapless father who had set himself on fire.
“Dammit,” she muttered. “I always forget the bloody fire alarm.”
With a sigh, she watched her Sim burn. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad, she thought. She had wanted to set up a gothic house next – now she’d have a gravestone for the garden.
© Kari Fay
Disposable heroes, eh?