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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link="#0563C1" vlink="#954F72" style='word-wrap:break-word'><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'>Fire Ballet<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'>© By Brad Corallo<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Word count 361<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>In the distance the fires continue to burn.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>She makes her way outside drinking a bottle of Mountain Doo.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>She wears old sweats and a pair of ancient sneakers<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> that may have been black once<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>but now are a color no one would choose from a color wheel.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>As she shuffles out to the clothes line.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>She is belting out “South’s Gonna Due It Again!” by the CDB. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>In the distance the fires continue to burn. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Standing 35 feet in the air <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>in the basket of a bucket truck.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>As the unrelenting wind blows dust and grit in his face ,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>he is thankful for the wraparound goggles.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>He is replacing a section of insulators on an overhead transmission line. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>In the distance the fires continue to burn. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>The band is banging out a spirited version of “Everything Happens to Me.” The tenor sax player steps up to the mic<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> and channeling his inner Lester young, blows a solo which garners 30 seconds of audience applause. He tips his pork-pie hat and grins hugely. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>In the distance the fires continue to burn. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>The young pigtailed red headed girl, throws the brightly colored ball. The brown dog chases it, barking joyously and drops it at her feet. She smiles and praises him lavishly. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>In the distance the fires continue to burn.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>In a filthy alley<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>between 2 brick buildings <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>a strung out junkie attempts to shoot up.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>With a dirty syringe containing a dubious milky substance.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>His hands are shaking so badly,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>that he misses 3 or 4 times before hitting a vein. Just before the shot takes effect, he feels The winds shift. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>And the fires moving, alter their forward direction.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>The newly engaged couple walk hand in hand,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> down the wooded path.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>They turn, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>And look lovingly into each other’s eyes.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Almost indiscernibly ash begins to rain down.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>They do not heed it. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Strengthened by the wind, the wall of fire moves purposefully and rapidly toward the town.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>As three uniformed members of the high school track teem exit the drugstore, <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>they look up and suddenly realize,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>there is nowhere left<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> to run anymore. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>jamesstarfire@gmail.com<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:11.0pt;font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif'><o:p> </o:p></span></p></div></body></html>