Colton Swabb

Smokeless Fire

Each night Jane awakes to the smell of fire. She can hardly remember a single instance, but each time Jane is confronted with the familiarity of it. At first, she thinks she’s dreaming it. Then she thinks it a recurring dream. But over time the dark circles form around her eyes and deepen beyond her, or anyone else’s, denial—like growing pools of ink in small bowls, that surround confused corneas floating in the center, tired, and afraid.