P is for Pyromania

She lies, nose almost touching the dry soil, and watches as the bright orange glow licks delicately at the edge of the hole, spreading outwards, the tiniest wisp of smoke carrying away tiny flakes of ash. Then a flame appears, startling her back but bringing the tiniest of triumphant smiles. She places tiny twigs on top, shielding the flames with her hand, and the pile begins to crackle and twist. She can feel the warmth growing now. The fire spits out a spark that hits her finger. She snatches her hand away and sucks it vigorously, but she is mesmerised.

(Linking back to the A to Z challenge)