There was only one reason she could think of to use this much gasoline, and the fear took her over the edge. Even her gag was soaked in it.
“You know… It’s all a matter of perspective.” Slowly, he circled her, mimicking the eyes of a hawk, even flapping his coattails like wings a couple of times to mock their situation.
“I used to be like you. I used to see… nothing but obstacles. ‘Why I simply couldn’t do that!’ ‘Oh, but that’s against the rules.’ ‘How the happy hell could I find enough napalm for that?’ "
He sauntered up then, inches away from her. His hot breath, like stale tobacco and heady spices washed over her face, his yellowed teeth and crinkly-faced smile in painful focus. A snap of his hand and a Zippo lighter’s flame was dancing between them.
“While you ponder the why’s, I prefer the why not’s, you see.” He seemed as if in rapture, lost blissfully in a world few could understand or would want to. “Now I don’t see obstacles. Just a whole lot of wrong… answers.”