The fire raged on. A war of heat and combustion against the soft birch logs that laid still stacked atop each other. Their white bark peeling back and darkening as the fire chew away on it.
The fire's hunger could never be satisfied. Sticks, logs, paper, cardboard, flesh, anything it could touch it would consume with passion and haste.
Leaving only ash as a sole reminder to what dare stand in its path, as if a warning to all.
Showing that fire did not know empathy, mercy, or pity; only hunger dwelled in its mind as it tore through the flesh of trees.
The bricks laid around the fire could only bear witness to the atrocities concealed within their huddle. Logs and sticks were thrown in and again and again they were consumed effortlessly.
The bricks were scarred from fires past with black soot and charcoal sitting at their bases. The burned remains of those casted away.
The smoke flew out of the flames gracefully, as if the spirits of those eaten by flames had escaped and flew away as far as they could.
Into the sky, past the clouds, only to look down and see the world they had been taken from. The chimney stood tall as if a guide to passerby souls to lead them to their adventure into the sky.
Away from the monstrous flames. The chimney being the last witness to these brave souls as they flew, as they escaped.