I Don’t Burn Like You
They decided I was a witch.
It was interesting at first, when they put me on trial. They examined my body for marks and moles, claiming they were signs. They pricked me, and drew no blood. They accused me of causing natural phenomena. Then they sentenced me to burn.
Bad idea. I tried to tell them, to warn them. I don’t burn like you, I said.
Now my flesh is being licked off by the flames, revealing my metallic form beneath. The coating sizzles in the fire, evaporating into a noxious gas. They’ll be dead before the embers are cold.
About the author:
Katherine Sankey is a freelance writer from the East Midlands, England. She writes Doctor Who articles for What Culture and was recently shortlisted in Tortive Theatre’s monthly FlashFiction101 competition.