Flash Fiction: Flickers in the Flame





Let it burn they told me.  Flesh that burns itches.  Or that's what I imagine it does.

They tie my wrists together.

Tight against the post.  So very tight.

I can hear their screams.

The fire consumes.  It purifies you.  It eats the flesh away.

Pain?  Just pain for a second.  Pain fades.  Like memories, they fade.

No more flesh, no more pain.  The mob took my flesh from me.  The witch hunt took me unto a pyre.

I'm still here.  Burning.

Centuries mean nothing anymore, just flickers in the flame.

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