The Distant Legend
The fire starts at 4:12 a.m. It eats the roof. It eats the beams. You watch from the street. The heat presses against your face. It is a living thing. It breathes. It roars. It wants you. You are standing on the corner of 4th and Main. The city is gray. The smoke is black. Your hands are shaking. You hold the box. It is small. It is wooden. It is heavy. You bought it last week. You paid too...
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