YOU CANNOT CLEAN your hands in dirty water – Oh, and how long I had been trying. All that scrubbing, inspecting my only skin under all the light, all that soap, lathering up into a froth, until every speck of dirt was purged into the filthy basin that looked so pristine once, slurped at by the gurgling, spoked, sink hole.
Turning the tap off, I dared to look in the mirror dappled with toothpaste and flossing collateral. I dry my hands and look at them, front and back, with a detachment as if viewing exhibits in a museum of sickness.
Nobody ever told me, you can’t clean your insides but I tried. I’d been bleaching the hallways of my within vicariously, gallon barrels kicked over, scorching through the dead life, cleansing with harsh notes, a burning sensation without degrees.
And so I stood outside, with clean hands and a book – of matches. The quickest quick read. With the reek of petrol fresher than destruction coating the paintwork of the building, I lit three on the strip, tossing them into the flammable.
With each change in colour I felt cleaner, and by the time the building caught the entire attention of the fire, my mind felt lighter as demons exited through solid bone. Burn in hell is a common phrase. Seems a little distant. Now is better.
Patient confidentiality with my psychologist? Let me tell the stories. I think they were eager to assist me now we had worked through several sessions. Eager was the wrong word – perhaps, bound? Underneath my confessions, I sensed fear. Of their workplace. Of their car. Of their possessions, all going up in smoke.
And I learned every issue I had could be neatly summarised into one word: transference; my inner fury had to have an outlet, I had to get clean somehow – fire – the other soap. Fixing years of damage would not be easy Dr. S. Galloway assured me. It would be a long road to recovery. All I could think was, are roads flammable?
LionAroundWriting 
And just another amazing story as I step into your place! Wish I was back earlier and read is sooner.
As always, Lion, brilliant as always!
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Thanks always syeda ☺
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Even though we never learn what the problem is, it doesn’t matter.
Suspenseful. Well done.
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Thanks, appreciated.
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;0)
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Wowza!! Sizzling work! Grabbed me from start to finish. A fire pit of the soul.
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And wowza right back, thanks for the glowing feedback 🙂
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Reblogged this on The Life & Times of Zoe the Fabulous Feline and commented:
Visit the Lion’s blog if you want to read about and learn from some cool and very well written insights….if you dare.
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Thank you Zoe.
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Brilliant, Fionn. I love the complicity of the ‘therapists’. Their fear and excuses, while the crime continues…
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Thanks Kim.
The therapist feels obliged by fear if nothing else to continue helping…a sort of in too deep scenario.
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You are the lion king of surprising endings. I did not see the fire coming until it burnt the page. Fantastic write – and read!
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Many thanks soul lines, liking the lion king of…😃
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You deserve the title, my Liege 🙂
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This has to be your most powerful write to date. Great message, nailed it with the finale. BRAVO.
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Mega thanks LA, that means a lot, especially from yourself.
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Great story. Love that last line
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Many thanks Al ☺
tar is highly flammable btw lol
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Haha!
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Another short hit, well done 😊.
Intentionally using the fact that arsonists are more likely to have suffered an abusive childhood, hence the washing and bleaching and therapy? Or a spookily profound bit of insight?
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Ta babbitman ☺
This story came to me quite organically, its hard to out my finger on the intentionality, but I would imagine someone predisposed to burning and destruction would have plenty unresolved issues.
As for insight, I swear I havent set any buildings on fire lol
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Interesting. Verrrrry interesting…. [scribbles into note book]
😉
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I have a sneaking suspicion, I am being psycho analysed via the medium of blog comment box…. 😮😐😃😕
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I loved the seamless transition from soap and water to fire. A scary, believable story!
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Thanks magarisa 😃 (btw does magarisa mean anything?)
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You’re welcome, Fionn. 🙂 (Magarisa is my alias; “magari” is my favourite word in Italian because of its versatility.)
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I see 👀
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It didn’t occur to me until later that Magarisa looked similar to Margarita. 😀
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That had a nice dose of sardonic muse at the end and the creepy fact of all those holding said keys, are they safe? Loved the intro and a thorough building of the characters flaws and insecurities and psychiatric potential, and lo…there he was. And so short – I read short stories that are flat and with nothing in them, hence their length so, amazing, again.
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Ta very much Anita 😃
Glad you enjoyed.
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You’re welcome.
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Seriously! I was hooked from the first line and as the story progressed, I loved how you introduced the element of fire. If water doesn’t clean, fire’s the next best thing right? Fantastic job!!
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Thanks for such positive feedback Jade 😃
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Wow! You did it again: goose bumps all over me, especially at the end! Great short story, Lion – as it is always the case!!
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Many thanks for your feedback Miss. ☺
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You´re very welcome, Lion! 🙂 Have a great weekend!
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You too.
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