Learning to Swim

A young boy pulled a burning branch from the searing bonfire and trotted over to his family, careful not to drop his flaming torch. His father grasped his hands, firming his son's grip on the branch. The blaring music fell silent, as did the masses of people. They lowered the branch to a damp puddle in the asphalt...

~

Calvin climbed from the Sun Angel's swimming pool, leaving behind an amorphous collation of redness floating within the water, clearly visible against the pale blue glow of the pool light. He stalked, dripping, to the entrance of the empty hotel. In the space of a day the entire of those in residence had fled. The staff were gone as well, many likely joining in with the rioters. He stepped over the body of a janitor, who he had surely killed. The televisions in the lobby all gave visuals of the rioting and the subsequent battle; gunfire intertwined with the cries of “Morningstar.”

He rode the elevator to the roof, still dripping reddish-brown water from his clothes. He stepped out and threw his shirt off onto the base of the Angel. Stepping up to the railing he stared out over the city, noting the occasional smoking building and the almost total lack of moving vehicles on the streets. A streak of flame caught his eye...

~

“You to wha-?” Brian was cut off in mid protest by Jenna tugging his attention toward the reason for the sudden cessation of the celebratory din. A man and a boy touched flame to fuel and with a deafening woosh the street adjacent to the one on which the crowed was standing burst into flame...

~

David Carlson sat safe inside his grandparents down town home playing with his pencil crayons. First he drew the star in black, lines intersecting to make five triangular points that surrounded a small pentagon. Then he drew over the star with a thin wavy line of blue. Finally he took his orange pencil and coloured in the flames.

“There!” he said. “Just like I saw in my dream.”