Beautiful Building

I’m in a beautiful building with all my friends.

We’re all laughing happily at something when I sense something.

I wrinkle my nose as I catch the waft of smoke.

But my friends don’t mind it. So I don’t mind it. We laugh.

The beautiful building gets really really hot.

I reach into my bag to get some water but my bag is empty.

My throat feels as if I ate a cake made of sand.

But my friends are fine. So I’m fine. We laugh.

There’s something at the end of the hall of the beautiful building.

It’s a searing bonfire. It rushes forward, getting closer.

I tug on my friend’s sleeves, and they look at the light.

But my friends don’t care. They continue. They laugh.

The Marvelous flames playfully lick my hands.

It feels like my hand is inside a beehive. I hear screams.

And I can’t tell if the screams are mine or not.

I can’t see my friends anymore. I can’t see anything.

My legs give way and I scream.

Then, as suddenly as the burning began, it stopped.

Leaving just me and my sore throat.

With no friends that once laughed, and no Beautiful Building that once laughed.