Because It Feels Good

I think it's fun to burn paper.

Especially when it has your words on it.

Even better if it's your picture.

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I light the match. Inhale the acrid smell of sulfur. Tear out all the pages and run the match along the side.The suffocating smoke enters my nose and I cough. Paper turns orange, then white, slowly gray and finally black. I blow at the ashes and they scatter all over, glide in the air and land in the sink, glue themselves to the tiny droplets of water. I turn the tap. First the gargling sound then the splashes. The embers are washed away, leaving black traces on the white sink. Brown smudges too, from the yellow edges of the paper. These stains will have to be cleaned, the water fails to remove them. Detergent should do the trick. I squeeze the bottle, squirt the yellow stuff and rub with my fingers. The lemony/zesty fragrance is bliss. Bubbles, tiny and beautiful, swirl down and into the drain. I now have nice-smelling hands.