The Burning Woman

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A content smile on grimy cheeks. Eyes closed, awaiting peace. Hair blowing in all directions, a rats nest becoming messier. The flame roars. The heat licks her bare feet. Chatter of those surrounding the pyre, the king upon his stand with his son frowning. A servant boy watching from around a corner, remorse and sadness in his eyes. He turns his back and walks back to his chambers. The woman laughs, such a joyous laugh. There is peace. There is burning flesh. There is no pain, none at all. The woman laughs in peace as the flames cover her torso. The smell of burning flesh imprints itself in the many noses of those watching. The woman at last opens her eyes. They show love for all, no hate or agony to be seen. The flames travel higher and the audience gasps. With a smile on her face the smoke suffocates her. The crowd murmurs before dispersing. The servants and guards gather the burned body, pausing to look at her face.


She is smiling.

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