A Letter from a Stranger (3)

Outside the boiler room, the weather was still burning as if it were an even bigger boiler. Even the ocean breeze had stopped at one point. The entire city seemed to be submerged in boiling glue. It was unbearable.

Above the dazzling, radiant, heavenly city, a cloud of polluted smoke rose among the tall uptown buildings. As the boiler room workers fervently created wind, the ashes flew with the flames. The remains of sins rode the hot wind, rising from the crude boiler, finally escaping its hold. They were free outside the boiler, and expanded like a drop of ink in water.

The black smoke seemed solid like metal in the windless air. It rose slow and thick as if it was determined to reach the stars. From afar, it looked like a black pillar reaching into the sky. Just like how one bird flying away in fright would lead to a flock of birds flying, a second cloud of black smoke rose soon after. And then a third, and a fourth…