SHORTLISTED FOR THE 2025 EDINBURGH FESTIVAL CONTEST
The night revellers carry massive burning bundles of pine sticks on their shoulders. Sparks dance upward and then fall back to Earth to eat tiny holes in winter hats.
“I love Chienbäse!” Hans thinks as he follows them, helping drag a bonfire wagon through the cobbled Swiss streets.
From a window above, his mother watches the annual fire festival. With the noise below, she doesn’t hear the intruder, and no one will notice her muffled screams. Tomorrow, the Polizei will say she had a heart attack, but Hans, already at the bar spending his inheritance, will know the truth.
“I love Chienbäse!” Hans thinks as he follows them, helping drag a bonfire wagon through the cobbled Swiss streets.
From a window above, his mother watches the annual fire festival. With the noise below, she doesn’t hear the intruder, and no one will notice her muffled screams. Tomorrow, the Polizei will say she had a heart attack, but Hans, already at the bar spending his inheritance, will know the truth.
