As if prompted by his memories of burning, the heat from the metal bin warmed his face. His heart beat faster, knowing he was in control of this dangerous element. He looked down, directly from above, and watched the paper curl into black, charred flakes. The shelf eventually started to take the flame and it slowly turned black from the bottom corner. The fire seemed fragile, as if it might go out at any moment, so Gerald stood watching it with silent encouragement.
As much as he hated the feeling of being burned, he loved the sight of a flame. His brain changed channels again, and he remembered his childhood friends propping abandoned wood and tarpaulin into a shape supposedly resembling a 'den'. They sat under the tarpaulin, laughing and joking and picking their noses. He cannot rememb
