A Story A Day. Story 149 of 365: Fire.

The smell reminded her of roasted, charred meat. Even in those circumstances her mouth watered. She didn't care it was her own meat, the one that was burning. She didn't feel the fire licking her legs. Her only focus was on Nicolas, looking at her from the distance, his eyes watery. She had been accused of bewitching him, there was no other explanation for him, a young man, loving her, who was past her youth. All the girls in town had chased Nicolas, in hopes of marrying him, but he only had eyes for her. All those girls were the same that were now cheering at her disgrace, and throwing her rotten vegetables and fruit. She didn't look at them, she didn't want to leave seeing hate. She looked at Nicolas once more. The pain of the fire, mixed with the pain in her heart. She wished she had had more time to love him, but jealousy burnt like fire, leaving nothing behind.