Written by Jacob Ibrag
This house was all that remained of
their old lives. This house was what used to be.
She grabbed the match out of her pocket and handed it
over to him. He looked through her eyes and saw a fire. It
was enough to engulf the memories in flames. They watched
on as the house was brought to its knees. These ashes were
necessary. Pulchritudinous destruction. They clasped that
hands together and witnessed neoteric foundation.
It was intoxicating. A new beginning.
Painting by agnes-cecile