Tampa was burning. The flames danced in the distance, growing and twisting with the wind until they resembled a macabre ballet that destroyed everything in its wake.
I sat on the ledge of Park Tower, the thirty-six story building allowed me a view few witnessed. My feet dangled over the edge. The acrid scent of smoke stung my nose but I stayed, mesmerized as I watched the flames spread from one industrial complex to another.
The wail of a fire engine broke through the hum of downtown traffic. The sound bounced off buildings as it inched toward the growing inferno. One wouldn’t be enough to stop this blaze.
I was tempted to intervene. The thought surprised me almost as much as the ease with which I pushed it away.
I was no hero.
I’d had no hand in its creation. The humans had started this one, and they could deal with the consequences.
I didn’t need to take on anyone else’s burden. I had my own to deal with.
Familiar resentment boiled under my skin as I stood, hovering on the ledge. It would be so easy to step forward. I closed my eyes and flung my arms wide. Air lifted tendrils of my hair, it caressed my face. I imagined it whipping around me as I fell. Four-hundred and fifty feet was a long way down.
Would I survive the landing?
I spun and dropped to the safety of the roof, my heart hammering in my chest as I fled my dangerous thoughts.
Years ago the devil made me a deal. I had no choice but to live with the consequences.
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