Inferno

"I will show you fear in a handful of dust." - T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land

Their smiles did not cool the fire of his rage, the toothy grins bore it across the dry bush and kindling of the city. Mere smiles, perhaps with innocent intentions, perhaps intending to incite, but having no concept of his depth in the sea of despair. Whatever the case, it is but a footnote. The results are the meat of the story. Charred flesh to be torn apart as what little blood still coagulates dribbles down your chin, gentile reader. For if a butterfly's wing can start a tsunami half a world away, what then can be the power of a smile, here, amongst the concrete jungle of graft and greed we all inhabit. Could it start an all-consuming inferno? The answer lies in your heart, and mine.