Seolf, the fire

On the streets, the fire’s burning. The fire in the hearts, the fire in the hearths, the brasero and the blazes.. It’s scorching. Scalding hot. Sweat turns to mist the instant they leave the relative coolness of the human body. Some people are dancing in the procession but most of them seem to suffer some kind of heatstroke? They’re defiling their human nature by struggling so much, crying their eyes out, desiccation in process.. Something’s bad. Awful. Something’s going to happen. Something’s going to break. People suddenly chant, as if possessed by the strange mood of the carnival. Fire-breathers expunges their lungs full of oils and oxygen into the air, creating beautiful snakes of flames high in the sky… Charlotte’s completely lost. Something’s wrong!! She sits down. Something’s wrong. Something’s definitely wrong. She exhales… Some people start to get naked to dance. She feels as if she’s in the middle of the desert. Something’s not… uh… She doesn’t have enough energy to think about it no more. She lays down on the cold pavement. Someone barely dodges her and cusses before dancing once more. She rolls to the side, lazily.. What the hell is going on? Chaos, hell… Hell. She ended up in hell. Fire. Fire. Fire. Someone breathes magma just beside her.. She wants to scream at him to stop this nonsense or the whole world will melt, but words don’t escape her mouth. She feels as if she’s being punished. Punished for seeking something else. Something different. Something that is not what she needs… And she’s drowning in fire. The ether feels rough to the touch, almost as if the entire air is against her at this instant. She wonders if everything, from the beginning of the day to the beginning of her entire life is a dream.. And she loses herself in the contemplation, mouth open agape at the sight of her own delusions.

“ Yo, wake up miss. ” Someone speaks to her. She opens her eyes. She’s cold. So fucking cold. She’s almost naked and fully covered in sweat. Her eyes can't seem to focus so she doesn’t recognize the silhouette before her. The stranger puts a coat onto her shoulders and wraps her in the blankets. She’s sitting in a comfy sofa, by the open window and the cool air whistles softly when sliding through her sweat-drenched hair. “ Hey. Hello? Is anyone home? ” A sweet voice, drifting away like shoyu in honey. A room that smells like sweat, cinnamon and sandalwood. Eyes, like burning coal behind the curtain or hair. She feels watched, spied on. She jolts up and suddenly sees the room, her direct environment. “ Woah now. Calm the fuck down. ” She stares. The voice feels warmer even. Burning, if it can be. Roaring fire, dire heat, scorching rays and the dampness of the evening in summer, Charlotte feels as if she’s been transported — once again — in this strange state, flowing like a river against molten lava, constantly creating new slag beds along the shore. “ What’s your name miss?

— Charlotte.. ” Her vision finally clears, and she can see the young girl, maybe two to three years younger than her, sitting by her bed and slowly tinkering with a strange copper and brass toy with sliding pieces. Dark brown skin with soot traces all along her naked arms ; she wears simple gold-colored overalls that fit loosely. One of the straps has fallen down and lazily rests alongside her forearm, unveiling a bit of her naked breasts behind the fabric. She has short black hair with red undertones and wears purple-tinted glasses. Her eyes are.. unnatural. They almost seem to be glowing with a dull pulse like the dying embers of a fire by morning.

“ Hi Charlotte. I'm Seolf. ”