Fire is my friend, and it has been this way for as long as I can remember. Everyone said that my mom had fire in her, and that she passed a little of that fire on to me. Even my dad, when he said anything to me at all. So after the mucous pooled in her lungs, drowning her from the inside out, and after they set her in the damp earth, deep where the fire could never go, the flames inside me rose up. It was only right that they got their share of what was left.
This is exactly how she would have wanted it. Don't go trying to tell me otherwise.... More>>>
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