The fire burns with a passion as I sit being illuminated in the dark. All I see is sparkling embers as the cold breeze is breathing down my neck. The fire in front of me is the only thing not allowing me to be swallowed by the void surrounding me wholly. Flames flicker against the wind with bits of ash flying off. I breathe a deep sigh as the ash tickles and burns my throat like the last stand of the blaze that is this fire.

Reaching into my pocket, my fingers brush against a crumpled piece of paper that I shoved into my empty pockets. I feed it to the fire with no remorse for its life. The fire devours it, still hungry for more. The paper turns into a charcoal black as it does nothing to fight back its fate. It quickly turns into a pale ash with one gust releasing its remains into the void.

In starvation, the fire reaches towards me. Its chains hold it back as it clings to its fuel. I smirk, knowing it is my prisoner as it slowly dies.

This fire is mine and mine alone. I am the only thing keeping this thing alive and if I choose, it could die a second. I look down at it with the fuel I provide for this blaze to continue serving me with its warmth. Why should I care for the death of it when the inevitable cold breathes down my spine. Still, resentment fills me as the last ember flickers to its death leaving me alone for the void to swallow me.

Maybe this prisoners’ life was worth burning for a little longer. But, it was either the void or the fire. As much as I loved the fire’s warmth and light, if I let it die, I could find another way. Maybe. I took that risk and now accepted the void.