...a little boy, standing around a fire, holding a gasolene can.

I can flare it anytime. All I have to do is flick my wrist, and watch the fire burn with hatred. All I would have to do, is step back. The fire can't burn me.

Heck, why not throw everything I have at it, if only to see the can explode within the fire, and watch the intensity of it rise, as if to push everyone away from it. Nobody wants to be close to a burning fire so big.

I wonder if the fire ever knows, if it can ever see the gas coming; or if it is simply the physical reaction caused instantly by a combustible hitting flame.

I really want to do it, though there is a piece of me that really wants to say I've grown up and that I am bigger than all of this.