The fire

I am addicted to fire.

I just think some people just have it inside. Weird feeling, complicated need.

Or this special necessity to light up candles, this need to have a chimney and a nice, huge, where you could bake a whole pig – fireplace. Really huge one. Or just stand there and use that powder… you know Harry Potter?

I bet you do.

But possibly you may not be so obsessed about fire. Logs and coal. And that heat which makes your skin red… and those flames, that pink redness, whitens of wood when it slowly changes into ash. and then flies away and if you are unlucky you can got it on your face and have a dark smudge. But it was white, and again now it is like black… like a special kind of paint. I know it is just ash, but still…

… painting with it, with fireplace leftovers.

And seeing things. Gods of Fires, All Fires… dragons and goblins. And of course those fairies, which can bring sparkles…

And faces.

So many faces.

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