Fire

I didn't find fire until I was ten, but I think I've known it always. I'd always feared it, but one day I felt strangely impelled to touch it. Flickering rising ballet of light, I touched it. No burn, no pain. Only, release, and a desire for more and more and more. Heat. I didn't tell anyone, but I indulged in it, submitted to its alluring voice, so it wasn't long before they noticed the worn-off pads on my fingertips from the daily exercise. My mom was concerned, but my dad was horrified. They took me to a doctor, but he only smiled. Lately, I've been spending more time with the flame. It sheds no light, I keep it in darkness. So I surrond myself with candles in the night when only the fire can abate my the cold in my body and the need in my hands. A God-given human need. These days everything seems to stir the embers. But please don't tell anyone, this is my darkest, though not deepest, secret.