THE SCENT OF fire sizzled in the air; it baked the skin, while a haze melted figures and rocks into one smeared form. Oozing lava bubbled up from the dark buckling stone. Like tendrils of melted gold and carnelians, the rivers hissed and pooled down the slope, black chalky foam dancing like wave crests on the edges.
Word Count: 57
Written: 1 March 2012
Inspired: life and a powerful urge to write