Arson

The acrid smell of petrol burns my nose, sticks to my skin like molten plastic, marring me.

My heartbeat sticks in my throat, pumping harder, faster.

The match head flares into life, pumping liquid adrenaline through my veins.

I flick the match with one deft movement, the flame highlighting golden pathways as it arcs through the dusty air.

Time slows, petrol rips into life, liquid flames spill across the ***** floorboards, slip up the graffiti ridden walls.

The deed is done.

Head bowed, my shoulder dips.

I turn and run.

Behind me, lucifer rages. Ahead, salvation lies.

I crash out into night air laced with smoky undertones, piercing through the clarity with clouded barbs of charred morals.

My feet pound on the saturated concrete, the sound of gasping breath and crackling pine slowly drowned out by the droning cacophony of fire engines soon to come.