I explode to life in a salty-sweet spark of phosphorous, potassium and sulphur. I creep forward I taste woody pine. I grow bigger and leave a black tail behind me. The air flickers around me and I can lick the tip of a tarry cigarette. I can almost taste the human flesh on the end of the matchstick. The wind threatens to snuff me out as I get thrown from the window but I land in a nice dry bushel of grass. My fingers spread out grasping the blades, culms, stems. I grow stronger. Another bushel and another. I spread my wings and jump as the wind whips up my flames. Flying over the dry prairie I eat as much as I can, grass, bushes, cacti, trees even small animals. My appetite is insatiable. I reach a road but it s no match for me. I leap across, finding houses, pathetic humans trying to beat me with wet rags, spraying water at me. I am no match for them. I devour them all until the rain quenches my hunger and I die in a soft whirl of smoke.