the dirt on my arms is so thick that the bumps where goosebumps appear are light now. the light from the blowtorches is really cool looking in the light from the setting sun, five green streams edged with purple, occasionally flaring up into bright blinding orange.
whenever the flame goes out the fumes smell delicious, like some food that i once smelled at the dinner table but i was too short to see what it was. i know the smoke must be terrible for me, as terrible as the tar coating my hands, but i really feel like i have done something worthwhile this week.