Death To the Poets: Paper Flame

“The rest of you search the rest of the houses here. No one leaves this street until all the buildings have been searched. Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir!” Cried the soldiers

The Captain watched as his men broke down the doors of the cobblestone houses and stores. Screams rang out from families at the sight of soldiers clad in blackened armor and red cloaks bursting into their homes.

The Captain shouted. “Any piece of poetry or literature that is found shall be piled in the street.”

He smirked, enjoying the chaos he was causing in the dead of night. This quiet street now filled with the snapping of wood and the tearing of paper.

Within the hour, a pile of paper and leather lay in the street . The Captain had his men circle the pile. Then, he did the unthinkable. Without a second thought, he grabbed a torch and proceded to light the pile. The books burned, the paper flame reaching to and beyond the roof tops, “Now for the rest of the city.” He thought.
View this story's 3 comments.