Fire

I'm about to commit a crime. The other woman, foul. I want to, the danger of it, the secretiveness of a hidden love affair...it intrigues me like nothing else. I can feel the fire igniting, and burning and the red attracts me as a moth is to the light. I might burn if I get to close, but I think that's a risk I'm willing to take...

Later today...

But impulsive actions must be impulsive, and given a day to think about an impulsive act defeats the purpose entirely. The flame dims, not meant to be, and one lost in a fantasy.

Concluded.