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Combustible

August 19, 2013

I feel the fire in my chest, wild and forceful, unwilling to be contained, unwilling to be controlled.

Breathe in, breathe in, breathe in…  Perhaps the air will cool it.

But breath is fuel, and the heat intensifies as the flames go deeper, burning out new space, recklessly consuming what I needed for yesterday’s survival.

You will not need that anymore. What you needed yesterday will hold you back from the gift of today, and prevent you from seeing tomorrow.

The burning is relentless.

Water.  I drink deeply, letting the cool of it flow into my mouth.  But as I swallow I find that this fire will not be quenched by water, but instead braids itself into the flow and responds to it as if it were kerosene.  The rush of white-hot flame explodes, and I catch my breath.

More fuel again.

It occurs to me that I may die from this overpowering burning.

But it is a far more frightening thought that I may not.

 

 

 

 

 

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