Burning Desire, Pt. 1

A blast of hot dry air blinded me as the door rose. While waiting for the initial blast to dissipate, I grabbed the rake that was leaning up against the wall. Shivering, inspite of the intense heat, I stirred the ashes. My intellectual side noting that the contents were burning evenly. Emotionally I was spent. Drowning out the sound of the industrial fan carrying the sanitized billows of smoke out into the frozen starless night, a continuous loop of thought was threatening to unravel my cloak of cold determination. "This is not my life!" "This is not my life!" Over and over again, screaming through my head.

The buzz of the timer penetrated my chaotic mind. Turning off the oven, opening the door, spreading out the contents, all was accomplished without any thought. Now for the hard part. Two hours is how long I calculated it would take to cool completely. Two hours before I could continue the process. Two hours to do nothing, but sit and wait with my thoughts as my only companion. Two hours to go over my steps. Two hours to insure that I have committed the perfect murder.