Slow Burn

I focus on the firepit, releasing the smoke from my cigarette. I drop it. The fire crackles and hisses under the pale summer night. A few minutes pass and I soundly pirouette around the fire, dropping my cloak into the pit. The flames engulf the cloak, brightening the sky. I smile as the warmth surrounds me, whispering my name. The heat becomes intense, so I pull my hair up into a bun, and remove my tight jeans. The release is relaxing, but not enough. Grabbing the hem of my tank top, I pull it and throw it behind a log. The relief is huge, and the fire is getting hotter. I sit myself down in front of the fire and watch the beautiful, slow burn. Grabbing the tub of gasoline beside me, I hurl it toward the fire. I laugh as the plastic melts, and the gasoline engulfs the fire. I grab the three empty beer boxes next to the pit and toss them in. They ultimately make the fire burn faster, and faster and faster until it turns to ash. It`s morning now, and I am just a body in the fire, yet to be discovered...

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