The flames of the fire dance around, continuously burning through the wood and paper, competing with each other to see who can do the most destruction. They dance like people. Enjoying themselves. They reach higher and higher, each a different shade of red, of orange, of yellow, glowing against the dark. Crackling as though they are laughing at each other's jokes. The heat, though distracting, warms me up. It stings my face but I am used to it. It's almost relaxing; the burning. They die as quickly as they came to life.
Each flame only having a few seconds of life until they finally meet their end, only to become a new flame, infused with another dead flame. Each one becoming a new source of light, even if it is for a split second. The crackling of the wood is my favourite noise to listen to. It's soothing and makes me forget, just for a moment, about the chaos of life and normality. Natural. Undisturbed. Peaceful. I want to reach out for the flames. I want to dance amongst them. To laugh with them. To live life to the fullest, then to die happily, knowing I will live life again. The complete opposite of humans.
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