She sits in the dark on the ground next to the fire pit that he made. Slowly she feeds the fire, one piece of paper at a time. Is the pain of a lifetime burning in that fire? Memory after memory going up in flames. Another piece of paper, this time she pokes at the fire. Is she imagining someone or just making sure the fire doesn't go out? Another piece of paper and the flame shoots higher. The flames dance, mesmerizing her with the ever shifting colors. Is she picturing him in the flames? Another piece of paper, the smoke gets in her eyes and she wipes away a tear. Is she relieved he's gone or just so tired that it doesn't matter anymore? Another piece of paper …