Aug 28, 2016
valerie clark &&. fire
“the sun’s made of fire, isn’t it?” she asks, her heart racing like its own INFERNO as she stares into the home - made flames. relief and dread flood her veins in equal measure but she swears she knew.
what else could it have been?
“it’s always been the fire,” she says, and it sounds more like an apology than a statement. she can feel the flames dancing in her darkened orbs, and it scares her ... almost more than she was scared the f i r s t time.
her proctor watches her like she’s the latest fire prodigy. “you could be the best,” he says, and he doesn’t notice the way she clenches her fists and squeezes her eyes to stop from crying.
she can feel the fire CONSUMING her. “please,” she says. “can you put it out?”
