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Firedance: Words that Burn A searing selection of short stories
from the circle of Firedance authors. The child, the girl, slowly
rose up out of the water, then turned away, laughing, and skipped
and danced over the path of fire towards the setting sun. My kind,
the Fire Dancers, we make the machines work. We harvest the sun for
energy. The star had been growing closer to the atmosphere. The
forests burned with fire that ran across the ground like sunlight
at daybreak. It was a ragged, wild dance that left the land
exhausted. Fire danced amongst the rebels. Horses bolted, their
manes, their tails afire, liquid flame dripping upon the grass. As
he watched, she whirled, like a dervish, faster and faster until
she burst into a fireball. The painting I found most striking is
one that he calls 'The Fire Dance, ' or 'Upa 'upa in the native
Tahitian language. Fire-starting was something of a talent, perhaps
his only one. 'My land in this realm is fraught with tension, fire
and instability; I dare not leave.' 'Why do you call that dog
Firedance, not Henry?' Three ragged children gyrate to rhythms that
none can hear to make the fire, the animating fire. 'Ya gotta learn
a lesson kid: you mess with me, and you're messing with fire.'
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