I dreamed.624Please respect copyright.PENANAjV7nd4s2W2
624Please respect copyright.PENANAOmbyjVEPrg
I was standing on a pillar in high winds, and I was on fire. It didn't hurt. It was warm. The fire was too bright to look at. I shielded my eyes with my hands. But the light was coming from my burning face. My hands simply protected the flames from the wind, and they grew higher, brighter. Then I was a beacon of flame on a pillar, and I was lighting up the entire world.624Please respect copyright.PENANADt3KWO6paY
624Please respect copyright.PENANAJhiQ49avPR
I wanted to get down, to put out the fire, but a crowd of people gathered. No, they all said, they needed the light. The flames, running up my face, across my eyes, hid their faces from me. I tried to get down, but they made me stay. They put a glass dome over me like a huge light bulb. I was trapped inside with the flames, which spread until the whole dome was a huge fireball.624Please respect copyright.PENANAQN2LpEYYkH
624Please respect copyright.PENANAUFcP9yJ7iL
I pressed my face on the glass, and the people below were in some kind of library, reading books by my firelight. There was a darkness following some of the people, emanating from their books. They pulled closer to the pillar and tried to read by my light. Every now and then they nodded appreciatively at the pillar-bulb. Others had books that emanated their own light, and they walked around freely while they read.624Please respect copyright.PENANAeIQ5Tczsxm
624Please respect copyright.PENANA78Q6224AGh
I wanted out, I wanted to read, I wanted not to burn. But I could! There was a book on the pillar, too! I picked it up. It turned to ash and dispersed through the air. I looked out again, leaning on the glass, hoping someone would hold a book up to the panes for me.624Please respect copyright.PENANApAGZjgiCMZ
624Please respect copyright.PENANAAjR6Xkwu5o
The glass went soft, and began to glow and drip. I melted a small hole in the dome with my hands. I looked down. There was no ladder or staircase. Desperately, I took a glorious jump. My flames spread out behind me, like burning butterfly wings. I flew!624Please respect copyright.PENANAMkCgD5irTT
624Please respect copyright.PENANAYg8Nd6LBri
No. I fell. Fire failed to save me from gravity. I flickered on the ground, unable to rise. People gathered around, and I cried for help. But they stood there around me, out of reach of the fire, reading their dark books.624Please respect copyright.PENANAa5NhCKOeaG
624Please respect copyright.PENANACRa3rOnpIL
None of the people with light books noticed us. They did not need my light. I faded, and the crowd drew in around me, closer, closer, closer. More light! They could not read unlighted books without light. More! The fire went out.624Please respect copyright.PENANAdLHNSY9hoW
624Please respect copyright.PENANAFKpisDsn6Q
I was glowing, a mere coal. They leaned over me, shaking their heads. I was looking up out of a grave of their bitter resentment. Why would I not give them more light? With a sudden, jerking movement, they all turned away. They, the puppets, faced an innocent man, who was thoughtfully reading his book of light. A sudden snatch. The book fell to the ground. Swarming like ants, they dragged him up the pillar and lit him afire. Down crashed the dome. The ant walked away, reading their books.624Please respect copyright.PENANAtzvOCUmydw
624Please respect copyright.PENANACz3Bak63mO
I remember. I read books, too. The pillar-light was so useful. A face of pure agony, of lonely betrayal, screamed for a moment against the glass. Fire, beautiful, useful fire, blossomed between the helpful glass and the unpleasant sight.624Please respect copyright.PENANAOc4AbCodws
624Please respect copyright.PENANAlfyRoP9Ply
My vision was so dark without fire. I want my fire back. Give me back my fire! I’m cold, small. Why, the fire has turned me to ash! There’s only a small piece of me left. A bright piece, bright without fire. It is... It is... a book? I am a book. The dead body of a poet, alive in the minds of those who read me. A book that lights itself, in a dark library of shadows.
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Dream of Fire
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Dream of Fire
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The life story of all great people
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