Fire

I stood and watched the embers slowly consume a leaf on that cold November night, thinking as I tended the fire. It turned to ash as it floated into the sky, riding the spirals of smoke into the horizon; vanishing from view in the last of the light.

Oh, how I loved fire. It was the world’s giver and taker. The fires of the sun warmed our bones, while the fires of the Earth consume our flesh. Give or take, tit for tat, Life for Death. Fire; the great equalizer. It was perfect in every way. I could always count on fire.

The leaves were all gone now, and the fire began work on its remaining fuel; the most important fuel. First the collar shriveled in the heat, burning with a slow intensity that was soon followed by the rest of the clothing, all of it burning and floating away in pursuit of the leaves.

The fire hissed as I threw the last of the gasoline onto it, and then expanded with a roar over the body. It was almost finished with its job. The flesh of the man smoldered, less relenting to the flames that danced upon it than the clothes. But with time, it would burn. With time, everything would burn.

I heard a pop as his left eye imploded into his skull, melting with a fizzle. The right one quickly followed, and I realized grimly that I could see directly into the dead mans brain through the open sockets. It bubbled and hissed along with the fire, and for the only time that night, I felt a little sick to my stomach. I looked away quickly, focusing on the flames instead, and the feeling passed. These sorts of things happen from time to time, I told myself, you’re only human, you know. Yes, I was indeed, only human.

I stood and watched the fire for a little while longer as it devoured the last evidence of my crime, thinking about simple things, like what I would have for dinner later tonight, and what I would wear tomorrow to my awful job. Simple, distracting things. I thought about everything really, except for what I was doing right then, and the events that had led up to it. Oh no, I didn’t think about those things, for they weren’t human, and I was. Those thoughts, those memories, were stored with all the others, deep down where I wouldn’t be able to find them again. That was the best way for everyone.

And when the fire slowly died down, I gathered up the bones and buried them with a smile. I staked a small metal cross in the ground above them, right next to all the others. There were twenty six crosses in all, a life’s work, and a great accomplishment in my minds eye. My fire had given, and my fire had taken away, and ultimately it had equalized everything in me once again. Its job was done, and mine was too.

I walked out of the woods back to my car, and started home; it was almost dinner time and my wife would be expecting me. We were having lasagna, one of my favorites. As I drove, I thought about those twenty six crosses and how everything, with enough time and care, would burn.

Oh, how I love fire.