Thursday, February 12, 2009

Gone with the flame

Sitting on the corner of his bed…the lighter feels so heavy in his hands. Clear liquid dancing in a transparent cage, not knowing it’s about to burn. He wonders…how would it feel to burn…to have your skin on fire, melting away...floating away from you…dispersing in the air with the black smoke. Would he still feel it if he was dead? On the pyre? He twirls the photograph in his hand…the image stares at him. He burns. Somewhere deep inside…he burns…without a flame…without any smoke.

He looks at the clock. It’s been ticking for the last three hours. Counting down every second…refusing to let one pass it by. He’s been sitting there, twirling the photograph in his hand…shifting between a colored image and the white back. How different they are. One burns him…the other soothes. Click! Click! Click!...and the lighter ignites in a yellow flame. Shinning light into the dark corners of the room. Its 3 am yet the sun seems to have invaded his world again. He twirls the photograph one last time. Looks at it in disgust…how can she smile like that? How can she be so happy? Can’t she see his face through the photograph? She wouldn’t be smiling if she could.

The tip touches the flame and it spreads across the photograph. It asks no questions. Takes no opinions. It just burns. Spreading in all directions…it just burns. “Betrayal! Betrayal!” his heart screams out. “Burn in Hell bitch! I hope you burn…just like this photograph.” A pain rushes up his fingers as the flame reaches the end of its victim. “Stupid shit…doesn’t even know when to stop”. The flame has no friends…no enemies. Its so pure…so neutral…so fearless. He wishes he could be like it.

The remains of the photograph lie on the floor. She’s not smiling anymore, but he is. He knows it’s over now. He can feel it. Like the world has been lifted off his back. His breath feels different now…cooler…softer. He knows there won’t be any more sleepless nights. No more staring at the ceiling…no more getting lost in random thoughts. No more association of places with memories…no more memories. He lies down and closes his eyes. No more flashing lights…no more tears. He knows it’s over.

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