Why I Did It, A Terrorist Manifesto (part 18, End)

[This is a fiction I co-authored with Louise Norlie. I have published the story in serial installments, every Monday for the past little while. Read the entire story here.]

In this dream I burn
And so does the world
Everything
Even the pavement beneath my feet
The glass hanging vertically above me
The air shot through with hot white embers.

Here I breathe the freshest air I have ever tasted
Burning flesh and hair smells sweet, not acrid.

Despite the fire I am cool, at room temperature.
I listen as screams fill the air when night descends

Even the stars fall, icy to the touch
Striking me with a cold burn
Not the explosive heat of a sun.

The burning beings of the world flock to the stars
But the heavenly glaciers do not save them.

A drunken moon devours the junkie sun
Regurgitates it into a burning ocean
It fizzles and dies with a hiss.

Yet when the dream ends
I do not wake in a sweat.

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