by: Allison R.

She stood silently

in front of the flames,

watching tendrils of fire

lick at the midnight sky

and the glimmering stars.

Her face was warm with the heat

radiating from the fire,

but her fingers

were frozen and blue

from the cold.

Snowflakes fell into her hair,


as they touched her flesh.

Her plaid shirt,

torn and missing buttons,

hung loosely from her body.

The wool winter coat

covering her torso

reflected the soft glow

of the orange fire.

Her light blonde hair

stuck to her face,

the wet strands frozen and stiff.

The flames flickered in her eyes

as she watched the house

silently burn to the ground.

The windows with their white paint

peeling from the heat

crumbled to the ground,

the scarlet velvet curtains

turning to ash and blowing away

in the breeze.

The faded yellow paint

peeled off the house,

falling into the fire.

She inched closer,

reaching out with her frozen fingers

and shivering arms.

The flames licked at her fingers,

but she felt nothing.

She was cold,

but her face was warm.

She threw her jacket

into the flames

and watched it burn,

shriveling up into gray ash.

She was shivering from the bitter, raw wind

blowing ash and snowflakes

into her hair.

Smoke wafted from the house

as she walked through the house,

her fingers trailing over the shattered

pictures on the wall.

She breathed in,


closing her eyes

as she finally felt the warmth.

The flames engulfed her body,

burning the soles of her old boots.

She felt no pain,

only the warm breeze

made of ash and snow,

and she laughed

as she finally felt warm again.

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