Firelight

A blue flame slithers through the night in search of its lost light. Darkness looms overhead: a shadowy raptor circling, stalking, swooping. The flame shoots azure rays of heat that singe the darkness, and flees. A psycho wind
chases the flame across sahelian deserts where it morphs into a simoom, kicking up cyclonic clouds of dust. When it finally corners the flame in a cave, the wind sucks in air till its cheeks swell into bulbous balloons, and huffs with all its might. The flame flickers, shivers violently as it nears extinction. But the wind runs out of breath. As it pants from exertion, the flame scarpers - racing over grassy swamps, gliding down giant glaciers - until it tumbles headlong into a lake of clear gasoline. The flame ignites, roaring as it soars, spreads, sprouts fiery tendrils. Yellow-orange and ultramarine shafts illuminate the welkin in pure firelight. From night’s ashes, day rises as a blazing inferno no squall or brume can extinguish.

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