The Flame

The town is on fire. Every house is burning. Every tree is lit from top to bottom. The only place to stand is on the streets, and all the people gather there. Nowhere to turn, the collective walk down the street avoiding the flames that appear to burn all the way to the sky. He was lucky to get out of the house before the fire jumped from room to room. The rapid spread plays over in his mind as he continues walking. Why wasn’t he running? He wanted to.

The flames still surround the gravel streets and he doesn’t know where he is going. None of the cars work. The lights on the streets are all out. All that one can see and feel is the glow of the fire. Everyone walking in a straight line and following the person in front of them, following the person in front of them, following the person in front of them. It is a daze.

Fire has always frightened him, ever since he was a little child and his mom spilled boiling water on her lap from the stove. He will never forgot the scream she let out as she raced to the bathtub to soak her thighs in cool water. He remembered following her in the bathroom and standing there as she shook and kneeled in the tub. He didn’t say anything.

As he continues to walk, people are coughing and collapsing in front of him. He can’t bring himself to help them and stop walking. It’s like he’s on an airport walkway that is pushing his feet forward. He thinks about the last conversation he had in his brother’s house. He told his brother he would... and the fire flew so fast down the hall he couldn’t finish his sentence.

It’s a late hour. A slow, downhill walk.