Once again,
I find myself staring into the expressionless face of his.
Like television white noise accompanied by a static screen.
The anger rolling off his tongue,
the words come like the ocean tumbling into the shore,
after each wave the tide is pulled back in,
just to take a breath,
before crashing back with more aggravation.
His leg begins to drum as he sits,
A rhythm to his anger,
a chant, even.
The red cape to a bull.
The drum beat quickens,
clenched fists
thudding feet
cracked knuckles
hidden glances
humiliation
anger.

The fire is blazing,
black smoke rises from the flames as if chugging from the chimney of a train.
Inside one of the carriages I fall to my knees,
forever backing down in surrender.
I am fearful for the journey to come to an end,
afraid that the train may halt.
I stay knelt to the ground,
letting the plumes of ash fill my lungs and scald my heart.
Nevertheless,
I know in the end that the flames will engulf the train and burn us both to the ground.

Onlookers stand like rabbits confronted with headlights,
unable to see through the blinding flames.
They dash in the opposite direction,
unwilling to get on board the train.
They aren’t to blame.
I am on my knees with my eyes melting from my skull and my skin crimson from the burns.