She stared at me from the other side of the glass, glad that it was me and not her. She stood there, smiling, while she watched me burn.
She’d doused me in kerosene but I was the one who’d lit the match.
I told her I was on fire for her–it was true–I was.
Wow!!
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Delightfully, even deliciously dark
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I read that three times. It’s safe to say I liked it. Well done.
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Thank you very much! I’m so glad you enjoyed it.
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