Break

The blue mist continually swirls around my body, flowing from the source in my palm. The smoke from the fire I have the power to control. I hold the burning embers to my face, allowing the stinging blue into my nose as it makes its way skyward. Shards are carefully picked off from the core and thrown to the ground by the cold evening wind. Shards of pure white heat freed from their slow torture. The wind makes the heart glow. It makes the center of the flame shine a bright orange and urges it along as it feeds on the rations provided. My eyes are then drawn to the others; the one’s standing around me. People, each one with the same power I have, each with their own similar flames in hand. One brings the flame close to his face towards his lips, dry from the winter weather. He breaths deep, drawing the force of the flame inside himself. He allows the painful blue smoke into his body, closes his eyes, and slowly releases the mist which finds itself merging with the blowing wind. It is at this time I take my own fire and draw it close. Doing as the fellow before me, I kiss the flame and breathe in the blue mist. I allow it to wind its way into my lounges, flowing freely in a mass of stinging potency. My throat newly scratched and ground by the moving heat craves water but is only greeted by the winter air which follows. And as quickly as it entered, I breathe out, releasing the smoldering blue heat now somehow different; different then before. Part of my inner sides leave in the swirling mass now dissipating in the dry moving air. With this last puff I throw my cigarette to the ground and proceed on my way.