She paints blistering pox upon her skin. Cool drops of lighter fluid scatter across the instep of each foot. Dampened washcloth held aloft, salivating, her eyes widen as the lighter’s metallic rip ignites anointed spots. Toes curled, teeth clenched, she rides agony to climax before releasing the cloth. A nauseating sizzle and the familiar scent of charred flesh wafts into our bedroom. I smile as she wrings every shuddering gasp from her human form. Soon I will awaken engulfed, her tongue licking my swirling ashes off the smoky air like snowflakes, my wings sprouting anew. Then we shall rise again.
Author bio: Lia Burnham is a lawyer working in the Washington, D.C. area. She has recently won contests hosted by Prose and The Angry Hourglass and received an honourable mention in the 43rd New Millennium Award for Flash Fiction.
Vacation is part of 101 Fiction issue 16.
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