A twisted orange red leaps at me from behind closed doors, curling yellow lick at edges; lurking in corners. When I turn to confront the sneaky tongues, they withdraw: wisps of imagination teasing me.

I could have sworn...

What's real anyway? The fires are there, I feel the heat at my back, crackling and alive. A thousand flames of longing draw me down to relinquishing control. I loosen slowly, pivoting suddenly to trap the elusive warmth before it slides away.

What I would give...

Sinuous light beckons from behind my eyes, taunting me with shadow dancing. My icy grip starts to slide, and the warmth crackles at my back. I turn to confront the flames, but they slither out of sight, trailing wisps of disappointment.

I could have sworn...