f i r e p r o o f

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            Fisting the papers in his hand together, he tore them apart. The tearing of the leaves of which was once a book she owned, ringing through the silent, yet screaming background. Then fishing in his pocket for a second, he took out a lighter, and started to blaze the pages. The small  ball of fire looking like a sea shore as the fire waved along the paper, burning away the words printed on them just like tides wash away the golden grains of sand.

            The fire cackled as it produced more bright and flaring flakes, burning each and every word on her book. It was merely a minute after he burned the papers to crisp, darkening them on the edges that he slammed his fists on the table. He had realized that it didn't matter that he destroyed each letter printed on the pages, for the words were still printed on his heart. Printed on his heart permanently. Forever. And he hated himself for it. Nothing was left for him to escape the memories that kept him up at night, for he can't undo, he can't un-sing, he can't forgive, nor he can forget. Because words are always fireproof.

***

Copyright © 2016 Syeda Fatima


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