Just a short little blurb I came up with after throwing some scrap paper into the fireplace and watching it burn. And then watching about ten other papers burn while trying to get a good picture of the fire with my camera phone (alas, the cover picture, which I'm quite proud of.)
I look at the last few words before crumpling up the paper. I've done this too many times to count, the same thing written over and over until the words mean nothing. I'm sick of it. I hurl the ball into the fire, wanting to break this hopeless routine of cowardice, of rewriting and destroying.
I watch the paper begin to brown; smell the dark, musky smoke. I hear the crackle of sparks hitting graphite and feel the rush of warmth against my face when the sheet bursts into flames. A soft, wavering light of blue, orange and yellow wraps around it, pulsating, reaching higher and higher until it abandons its prisoner. The page is a black flower now, its petals burnt, outlined by bright orange. The glow flickers and dies out, leaving the flower to puff into ash with the slightest of breaths.
My words are taken with it, gone forever, out of my heart and mind. As I watch the fire crawl back into the embers, I am at peace.
As you may be able to tell, this was edited really quickly. So basically, I'd love any input you have to give! Thanks for reading!