You light a match and you look at the fire. Funny, that fire thing. You feel the smoke entering your lungs and you like it. You taste the smoke. The sweetest taste you’ve ever tasted. You can hear the cigarette burning little by little.
Sitting at the top of the hill, looking at the tiny people running in tiny circles living their tiny lives in their tiny world with their fast food and fast cars and fast forward with no replay button, you smoke your last cigarette.
You get up and take the last step you will ever take. While falling, you look at the amazing view. Raging inferno falling in to what looks like an orange ocean, as if Hephaestus himself was responsible for that. The sea blending with the magnificent sky boiling while you fall. You have never seen such a beautiful sunset. As you fall, the wind is blowing at your face, pounding your body, almost unwillingly pulling you back…
You wake up, and light a match. Sitting at the top of the hill, looking at the tiny people starting a new day of running in tiny circles, living their tiny lives in their tiny world with their fast food and fast cars and fast forward with no replay button, you smoke your cigarette.
Looking at that amazing view of raging inferno pulling itself out of the rocks, high up in the mountains, and you think to yourself that this is the most beautiful morning you have ever seen. You hear the cigarette burning little by little, daydreaming about slow cars and home cooked meals and nice people that always know when to press the pause button.
You try unsuccessfully to fall asleep again, hanging on to that dream and unwillingly, letting it go…
|
Submission Name: The god of fire
