How to Burn a Body

by Frances Hsu

              Before you dig the hole, make sure that the moon hangs high in the sky, so the soft gleam of the moon shrouds your shadows. Bring a piece of raw meat for the wolves to chew on, so they do not bother you in the depths of the forest. Lugging the 6’2 frame of a man around the soft ground may be hard, but persist. Anything is easier than the nights when his frame blocks the light coming from the doorway that could never be fully closed. You had wished for the creaky doorframe to knock him off his feet one day, but that day never came.
              Come to a clearing, one where animals don’t frequent, so you don’t accidentally harm any of them. Gather firewood around the forest and stack them in a pile middle of the clearing. Don’t worry, there is no need to be neat. Make a mess because you haven’t gotten the chance to let loose yet. Take that same lighter he gave you for your birthday four years ago, the last birthday that he remembered, and light it up. Throw the rusted metal into the woodpile and watch the small flicker of light slowly catch and burst into life, illuminating the forest.
              After the first sparks of flame blazes out, stand straight and don’t recoil. Embrace the fire’s warmth, feel the pockets of hot air burst near you, and relish. Relish in the dance that the fire offers, with wisps of smoke and ash waltzing up to the eternal sky, offering their gratitude to the moon that shrouded you. Pull the man up by his shirt collar and stare at his cold unforgiving face for one last time. Admire the single maroon streak that stands out on his ghast white face. It is your handiwork after all. Stuff his empty head full of your resentment, anger, sadness, love, and watch them overflow his tiny cranium, oozing out of his eyes, ears, mouths, and set the man ablaze.
              While he burns, see the sliver of life that still resides in his eyes shrivel up and crumble into the same dust that you step on every single day. While the crumbs of his ego float down into the ground, throw your head back and laugh maniacally. Laugh so loud, the crows are awakened from their sleep  and fly away in fear. Laugh so that even the most ferocious of beasts in the forest gather around and cower, cower in fear of your fire, your prowess, you. Dance and stumble around the fire’s cackling shouts. Rage and prance along to the pop and crack of his flesh and bones. Don’t stop, don’t stop. Until there’s nothing but a pile of ashes and charred bones.
            As the first hint of dawn peaks out in the sky, gather up the bones and throw them into the hole that you just dug. Cover the remains with dead leaves, grass, sticks, and soil. Spit on it. Stomp on it. Cry on it. Let the greying clouds gather from your rain dance, washing away the tears on your face, the soot on your shirt. Let the streams of water carry away your guilt, your anger, your sins, and flow into every being you have ever encountered to let them know of your innocence. Make sure they know that.