You draw your lighter from your pocket (you would never leave without it) as you waltz over to a dumpster.
These wretched tanks, grueling and pungent to the senses. The workers never take care of the trash when they're supposed to.
Which makes them all the more favorable for blowing sky high- so much inside to burn! And then, just perhaps, the reeking scent will draw out the caretakers.
It's a violation, this form of disposal. It disturbs the peace. It disturbs the general ability to breathe.
Whatever will you use as tender, though? There has to be something easy lighting in the dumpster..
You lift the lid, expecting a wretched odor, but it never comes.
You lift the lid, expecting to see it piled high with black bags and white bags and loose trash alike.
But you never see it.
Flames erupt out of the massive canister, blowing you back with their explosive force before coming to envelope you in a heated blanket.
The dumpster was rigged. It wasn't for you, but someone wanted someone blown up by this dumpster.
And you just happened to be here first.
Game Over
YOU ARE READING
Futile Trials
AdventureThis is a your choice story. But choose carefully, many of these paths will lead to an unfortunate end.
