Every so often he found himself in that daydream
The one in which he spontaneously burst into flames
All the people around him startled, aghast at the sight
Of his body afire
The white-yellow-orange-red tongues of fire
Engulfing him from head to toe
His hair burning like so much dry tinder
Cries of horror from the crowd that gathered around
To watch as his skin was seared
The flames like an angry, hungry snake
Consuming his flesh
Until only the charred bones of his skeleton remained
In a gray-black ash heap on the ground
The daydream always made him smile a little
For, he imagined, if it ever were to actually happen
A death like that
Would make him famous
And somehow that would make it all worth the pain
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