Thursday, August 7, 2008


The perpetuating propulsion blazed around the lower portion of Simon's body. The burning energy seemed to be strictly limited to this region. He was a flying fool proof cigarette lighter, although the efficacy of his actually lighting anything other than the air immediately around his legs was questionable. His jeans and hush puppies remained unaffected by whatever force was carrying him and in his mind this was at least as impressive as his being able to fly.

Simon had first noticed he was different from a very early age. While the other kids, were playing with their digimons and tickle me Elmo's he was deciphering the mysteries of the universe. At the age of five he not only solved 2 of the worlds most timeless question's -- why don't penguins feet freeze, and why does bread always land buttered side up -- but he'd also stumbled upon, through an accident of transcendental metaphysical alchemy, a question that all the great philosophers had somehow missed: Why was fire so mean?

After 5 years of pyromania and pyromancy he found his answer.

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