The fire collapsed and fell into its poltergeist self. Gossamer wings flew around, pushed forward and billowing with the old heat from the wood. It drew up first from the earth, then into the air into the plant into the woodhome and into the fallen death that was released with the dire heat. She danced and fanned the flames in a dress that came from another world into this one and the moment lasts forever, caught in a small grouping of light for me, for all of us now.
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