The Fire

The fire glowed orange and red and yellow and white and the flames reached far above the heads of the crowd around. Frank stared into the fire, amazed at the beauty and splendour. It moved differently every way, yet had a rhythm, a beat, a life of its own. He breathed it in as though it was a part of his soul.

“Nice fire.” Frank flung his head to the side and stared at the girl standing next to him.

“I won’t lie. It’s not bad.” She laughed at him. He looked back to the fire and smiled, pleased that she found him funny.   He looked at her from his half closed eyes and thought that he could trust her with the truth.

“The fire is just so beautiful, but so hot. I wish it wasn’t so hot. You know what I want to do? I want to lay on the fire and have the beauty and colour wrap me like a blanket. That’s what I’d like.”

She laughed, this time a little more nervously. “Don’t,” is all she said.

“No, no, I wouldn’t. It would burn me.”

“A lot,” she agreed. “You’d be quite injured.”

“Quite.” There was an awkward silence. She noticed a space becoming free on the other side of the fire.

“I’m going.”

“Right.”

Frank watched her go, turning into a lizard and sliding under a rock. He wondered if the acid had started working yet.

 

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