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November 26, 2016
The fire begins in a dark place deep down inside. You can't see it. It flints up the byway back of the mind turned up for a star fall; some kind of romance begets the thoughts to ride the head back into itself, like a tennis ball turning itself inside out. You know the gag. You can't see it happen. It's a magician's trick, sleight of hand, nothing supernatural, nothing out-worldly. Same with the fire, but the mystery remains. Who started it? In time the conflagration consumes even the mystery. No one even tries to ask the question why.