2/9/11

Little Flickers
By Sara Grayum


Kara was twenty. She peered out over the rickety metal door enclosing a go-cart track as the wafting smell of chilidogs hit her nose. To her right were Luke and her big sister Jessica, each hand wrapped around the other, blending into one. To her left was an older gentleman with a four-toothed grin and a root-beer belly.

Once Luke and Jessica placed themselves in their bumper cars, Kara noticed the old man drifted off into what appeared to be an alcohol induced nap. To re-assure herself of this she slipped out the matches that were peaking above his breast pocket, never once breaking the old mans slumber. Once convinced of his inebriation, Kara began to peer over the rail, catching a glimpse of where the extra gas canisters were kept. Quietly, Kara grasped the red handle, taking a canister for herself.

Turning the canister upside down, Kara could feel the cold gas fall over her, giving her goose bumps as it covered every inch of her body. She laughed, as she sparked the match, watching as Jessica and Luke swooshed past her on the track, while she engulfed.

Goosebumps soon were replaced with the kind of enveloping warmth that only a shot of makers mark could create. Fires of this kind don’t burn for long, Kara heard the onlookers say, “I give her five minutes,” but she lasted all day. Oh, how Kara adored a low expectation. She loved nothing more, than when you finally exceed…. And their jaws are on the floor.

People huddled around her but not one hand was extended. Except for a few, who retrieved marshmallows, and scoured them in it. She was contagious, and it had felt nice to know. If Kara couldn’t be beautiful, at least she could illuminate them with her glow. She heard some question “How, why, or when?”

“I became a human torch, burning in the breeze,” she said. “And for once in my life, I feel free.”

“What?” the crowd jumped back. They’d never seen fire talk, especially words like that.

The sun settled behind clouds as Kara stood engulfed, admiring her golden hue. And as the fluorescent street lamps came on, she resembled a star. Her whole being sparkled.

“What… what are you doing, Kara?” Jessica exclaimed. “If you were seriously that cold I’m sure Luke would have given you his jacket! Wouldn’t you, Luke?” She persisted.

“Uh. Er… yeah, I guess… if you gave it back,” was Luke’s earnest response.

Kara made an attempt to answer but the fire had taken over. Watching her flesh turn to ash, she knew the consequences. Of this she knew for sure. That this, like all fires, can’t burn forever. And as she crumbled, breeze would waft into the room, as would the old man and his broom.


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I've got my head in the clouds and my heart firmly planted in reality.
I own two blind chihuaha's, and one very high maintenance cat by the name of Jezebel.
I write for fun and/or because when my heart gets trampled on it helps to spew out my thoughts via poetry, ect.