we leave ashes in our wake
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There are 2 children sitting on the bench.
The boy breathes in the crisp winter air.
There is the smell of dry wood hanging in the air.
The rope snaps and goes up in smoke.
Does it hurt?
What?
Does it hurt when you burn the bridges?
No, not really.
The fire is still sizzling.
There are 2 people sitting on the bench.
The boy puffs out smoke from his mouth.
How many?
I’ve lost count.
Would you like a stick?
The tiny flame dances.
There is a boy sitting on the bench.
He smells like tobacco and rotten flesh.
idek
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