August 17, 2015


Promises are dangerous like fire, he thought. Once you start one, you have to see it through. Otherwise it might rage unchecked. It might consume you instead of keep you warm.

He had flame inside him. It was scorching his insides. He needed to set something ablaze. But he was frightened by the flames. He knew how they could burn.

Once when he was boarding the subway, he saw a girl. And he saw a glow in her eyes. The soft glow you see from a campfire or a candle. He walked toward the train. She stepped off it. They glanced at each other for a moment. You might say sparks flew.

All the unwhispered promises charring the corners of his lips.

All the unheard promises searing her ears.

They walked past each other. Maybe it was for the best. Probably nothing could have happened anyway.

But sometimes you want more than embers on a cold night.