Ficlets

Arsonist's Friend.

He was mad. I could see it in his eyes.
“I..” my mouth was dry, like I’d eaten a roll of toilet-paper, “I have to..” I spun on a heel and ran.
“WAIT!” charlie called after me. There was no anger in his voice, but the disappointment in his eyes, I could no longer bare.
I rounded the fence post with a swing of my left leg, and scurried through the cedar bushes in hiding towards my door. Mom would be angry with me for soiling my ankle-high socks.
“They’re not cheap, Tibby,” she always said, but i rather enjoyed the feeling of cool grass on my socked feet.
“Wait, I am not angry,” said Charlie from the fence post. I stopped short of the backyard and didn’t move.
“I.. I just meant to say that,” it was Charlie’s turn to stammer, “I meant to say that my Mom would not put the fire out.”
I swallowed, now ashamed at my folly.
I tripped on a root, stubbing my toe; the pain was inconsequential.
“She wouldn’t?” I looked at my dirty socks.
“No,”
“I want it bigger,” I offered a shameful smile.
“Me too,”
Charlie liked me!

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