It starts with a match. A flickering flash. Moving, reaching through the stilled air with orange tendrils searching, searching for a catch. Across it comes. Leap, flicker, consume. Leap, flicker, consume. Like some exotic tribal dance, it flows, it grows. Tickling, ticking off your possessions, one by one, into white-hot rhythmic bliss. Hotter and warmer, warmer and hotter it goes. Until it withers out the shell. Crash! A folding and a snapping as the flame-flecked walls come down. As the curtain comes. That's it, shows over! As you flicker, flicker out.
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