The Traveling Pen

Weekly stories that start conversations.

The Flaming Soul

This 80 year-old man keeps melting in front of me. Stressed out, I can’t do anything. Please where is the exit?

I keep asking myself; ‘What if I hadn’t turned right?

I could’ve gone straight, could’ve gone left. I even could’ve stopped and reversed, in retrospect, any other options would have been a better choice than the one I picked.

Murder him!’ If only it was that easy.

Would you break the clock only to get back at how it robbed you of your youthfulness? Like a lifeless being, my body collapsed on the twelfth step; while my thoughts were at war in step one. I stare down at the wax and it’s now solidified; molded perfectly with its surrounding, unrecognizable.

“Don’t forget to wipe your eyes when you leave.” He says.

No one is out to get you.

Every inch of my body is now soaked. With a flick, my entire soul goes up in flames.

I melt, melt, and melt without a care, bonding to my old consciousness forever.

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