Burning

Her mouth tastes like ash. She's surprised the heat isn't liquefying the metal staircase. Everything is so hot. She sees flames whenever she closes her eyes. Why can she feel it now, she wonders. She is already dead– or would be– or should be– isn't, is, can be, won't be. She wonders what she could have possibly done as a child to doom herself to this purgatory as an adult.