 | Banging and clanging came from the old log building. Heat waves bellowed through the door. The forge was working at capacity. Red hot coals embracing the cold steal. Hammer and anvil moulding the shape. Plunged into the water bucket. Steam hissing. The order had come in for wall hooks. All different lengths. Bent at one end to fit the wall brackets being made. A hook on the other end to hold cooking pots over an open fireplace. He had not always been this man. A leather aproned blacksmith with a black smudged face. Life deals odd twists to survive. |
Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Prompt - June 29, 2016 - write a story surviving.
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