Have you ever leaned in too close to a flame?

Isn't it funny, how the heat can creep up on you?

A cliff's edge where warmth 

falls fast into searing pain.

Like the few seconds before a train goes from towards you,

to beyond you.

An overwhelming rush of sense and sound,

a heady thrill of wonder and fear,

a wave of realization of its unforgiving speed and barrelling power.

You fall back a step. 

But when it passes, it's just a train.

It was always just a train.

Just a momentary wash of wind and dust and passing metal, 

carrying other bodies like yours wherever they want to go.

You smooth your hair back into place and wait. 

You brace yourself for the next train's passing,

but it slows to a stop.

The flame flickers and stills,

not quite as close as it was before.