Author: Rachel E. Wilson
It dances in joyful laughter and shared smiles, echoes in years of love and friendship, fills the spaces around us with unspoken heartache, eternal longing. Home. Home. Home. I’ve never been there.
She hangs in the window, twisting gently in the breeze from the open door. It’s a slow life, a thoughtful life, this. She has plenty of time for thinking. Too much time, some would say.
Fire dances for the first time as he strikes a match under his father’s watchful eye at seven years. Fire dances again when, at fourteen, he joins the schoolyard fun of cheap Bic lighters and spray deodorant.