Curling up into a ball, I fought to keep the fire alive, the igneous flame, smouldering in my hands.
I kept it close to me, it was fiery, stinging my abdomen, I still clasped the fire in my embrace, my cradle, paining me beyond subcutaneous level.
Reluctance, my idiotic obduracy burned as demented as the fire in my embrace.
The ball of fire was inching into my skin, charring every cell of my body.
drip. drip. drip. Drops of water pelted down unto my forehead as I lifted my head to look at the sporadically spread sombre clouds, ready to pour any time.
The teeming rain overwhelmed my fire, I laid prostrate, my tolerance for the pain had reached its limit.
The deluge of water swilled my scars, my burns. I felt better, not holding on to the something that I reckoned important, that I thought I could not live without.