A Fiery Philosophy

I felt awakened from a stupor.

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“What’s on fire?” He asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know!?”I thought but gave no reply.

Taxicab privacy screen was locked in place; I have held myself at arm’s length even from my own family, situating interstates and time zones between us.

I was no longer a reactive object to be manipulated.

I granted myself distance and anonymity to write through my struggles.

After determining isolation wasn’t the answer, I succumbed to existentialism and got on with living.

I felt awakened from a stupor.

I put pen to paper, and the spark of inspiration ignited a flame within me.

Sirens blared as firetrucks scrambled, and the curious cabbie drove away from the burning apartment building.

“Where to, Miss?” the driver asked.

“Home,” I replied as if he knew where that was.

“My soul,” I said, “that is what is on fire.”

I smiled at the reflection in the window and admired the blazing trail left in my wake.

– Written for YeahWrite.me Weekly Fiction|Poetry Writing Challenge 261 Question Prompt “What’s on fire?” and Prompt Up previous line combo for fiction. WC 157

Author: LearaWrites

I am a voice actor, an artist, a photographer, and a writer, not necessarily in that order. I love animals and the ocean. I have an AA in Fine Arts and a BA in Psychology. I am an observer, a storyteller, a dreamer.

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