The soldiers are laughing heartedly as all young men do. They are
afraid of me. Tarantulas are not their best friends in the sand of the
Sahara Desert. Although so tiny, I am very powerful and the soldiers
know that very well.
Playfully they spill gasoline all around me and set it on fire. I
am choking on the smoke of the burning gasoline. The fire feels hotter
than midday sunshine. I walk around the circle. I walk around the circle
again. I walk around the circle for the third time. There is no way
out.
I am the Power. I have always been divine. I have always been a warrior. I turn my weapon against myself.
The soldiers stop laughing. They freeze watching my suicide.
