The fire roars in the thick darkness, its light softly illuminating the room.
My shadow is reflected, its round shape outlining a part of the grey and speckled red carpet, most of which is enshrouded in the pitch black.
I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of the night.
I hear the whooshing wind rushing through the sky, I put myself in the picture, outside in the night, feeling the icy wind brush past my skin.
I open my eyes and once again, I'm back in reality, feeling the heat of the fires flames warming my back.
I listen to the soft hush of the night traffic, and wonder who is inside the cars, where are they going, what is their life story. My mind wafts about, like a fox roaming the wild forest with no direction mind.
A crack startles me, and I emerge from state of entrancement, shocked.
It was just the fire, the dry kindling slowly disintegrating into specks of dust.
The fire, and it's seemingly everlasting presence, comforts me on my journey in the night.
