Fire (Flash Fiction)

It’s that moment where you sit too close to a fire and it starts to burn. You want to pull back but at the same time, this is the warmest you’ve ever felt. It’s that not knowing whether you’re in the fire or not; that pacing from the heat to the cold. You don’t want to be cold. You can’t be cold again. So you sit by the fire, for hours, just next to it, but every so often you get too close again and the heat is too intense. The first thought in your mind is that you want to leap into the fire, not away from it. So you sit close, waiting to see if there’s any reason why you should leave the fire and go back to the cold, but there never is. There’s never a reason to jump into the fire either. You’re stuck, between being on fire and being cold and neither of those options sound good to you, so you are waiting until a better option comes forward. It doesn’t, so for years, the fire is your neighbour. The fire is your friend. The fire is not you though.