Nicholas Day - At the End of the Day I Burst into Flames

Her name, I realize, isn’t important. That I loved her is all that matters and I let the memory of her go. And it occurs to me that if time is a circle and I am forever, then this poem wasn’t written only for her.

I wrote it for all of them.

“Would you hold my hand?” Emily asks.

I nod. “Yes.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know.” I look at her. We are deadlocked. “I think I like you.”

“I like you, too, Martin.” She winds her fingers through mine and I am on the brink of having a cold sweat. I feel a rush of cool in my arms and chest.

The moment she said my name I knew I loved her.

I am stuck in an elevator with a boy named Stephen and his dead mother, I am stuck in there with my mother and father, but all I can see now is Emily. I put my arms around the girl, and she does the same to me. I can feel her fingers on my back and for the first time I feel like I am greeting someone instead of saying goodbye. Cold chills change to a blanket of warmth that envelops us, bathes us in a red, candy-apple glow.

The seconds slow to a crawl and I know that Death is watching but I do not look at him.

Instead…

I think about love.

And I burst into flames.

Many thanks to JournalStone and Bizarro Pulp Press for giving this manuscript a home.

And thanks to: the beta readers; those of you who contributed kind words in advance of this story’s publication; my family and their support; passing glances and attractions; the Midwest, its communities and ghosts; the house fire that left an impression—

and, finally, to love, in all its various guises.

Because of you, this text exists as a book instead of a suicide note.

Nicholas Day currently resides in the Pacific Northwest. His novella, Necrosaurus Rex , and his collection of short fiction, Now That We’re Alone , are both available through JournalStone imprint Bizarro Pulp Press.

Find him at www.nicholasdayonline.comand on Facebook.

“At the End of the Day I Burst into Flames burrowed into my heart with each page that I read and took shape as a beautiful monster. Nicholas Day paints worlds both wonderful and painful. He shows us another side of death and love where their roles are interchangeable and their story unforgettable. He’s one of my favorite wielders of words.”

“Existential poetry in the form of a horror story—I mean, a love story. At the End of the Day I Burst into Flames is like a having a smoke—killing you, intoxicating you, connecting you to just how quickly it all burns away. Beautiful, sad, on fire.”

Copyright © 2018 by Nicholas Day

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Bizarro Pulp Press books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

Bizarro Pulp Press, a JournalStone imprint

www.BizarroPulpPress.com

The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN: 978-1-947654-80-8

Printed in the United States of America

JournalStone rev. date: December 21, 2018

Cover Design by Nicholas Day, D.F. Noble

Ebook Formatting: Lori Michelle

www.theauthorsalley.com