Charred black, removed of all color when flame is set to it. So easily is its composition just…entirely undone, all by this simple act. Light up a dancing blaze, so hypnotic in its swaying, and cause it to meet with the fragile thing whose arrogance we have fostered since time immemorial. Then…poof. Reduced to being nothing but smoldering ash.
Undone is all of its charm. Its magic spell is broken, it would seem. Suddenly, we are reminded of the impermanence, the delicateness, the…frail grasp it has on our minds.
First we scream.
Then we’re in shock.