by Kern Windwraith
Come, she said. Burn with me.
And I followed. Down the dark passageways gouged beneath the canopy of roots, deeper, deeper, I followed, guided by the flicker and flash of her breath, the sparks of her bare heels striking the rocky path.
The iron bars of the first gate melted under her blazing caress. Doubt whispered, cold as ice, but I didn’t stop.
When we reached the final gate, she turned, flames licking her cheeks like molten tears.
Come, she said, and her eyes bled fire.
Memories of my wife and son flared and shrivelled to ash.
And I followed.
Author bio: Kern Windwraith lives with her sister and their blind, deaf, diabetic but always entertaining Jack Russell in Vancouver, British Columbia. Her poetry has been published by The Literary Hatchet.
Ignition is part of 101 Fiction issue 10.