Fire

They were dancing everywhere. Always fast, twirling, spiraling around, going up and down repeatedly as if moving to a muted song. They crept up the tiniest spaces, spread out seemingly unaware of barriers and stoppings; and there were too the colors… If I kept my eyes open long enough I could see the infinite mixing of red, yellow and orange becoming one bright moving light with no end or beginning. I could see them, and I could hear them, but they didn’t hurt me, they didn’t. To them I was already a friend. The girl and the flames. I was friends with the fire.

When I arrived, the building was already in flames – tall, bright flames licking the wood frame. I knew what was going to happen when I walked into that place. Step after step, foot behind foot, I willingly touched the flames. I knew the explosion was already set up. But all flying bugs are attracted to light.