The Burnt Child

'Well they say a burnt child loves the fire.' The words sit there on the page and June wonders briefly if he'll recognise them. Surely not. But she can so clearly imagine him in his dorm reading them, legs outstretched, diary on his lap. A moment later, his tidy script appears just beneath hers and her stomach twists in horror. 'They say what fire does not destroy, it hardens.'