Bovary’s Writing: The Cerulean Gates

Fire is fire. How could it be different from what a fire should be?

She watched as the last of the fires burned blue. They said it wouldn’t  look like a normal fire. Fire is fire. How could it be different from what a fire should be? Still, she didn’t believe their words until the blue light reflected off her chocolate skin. The bluish-brown hue of her skin was mesmerizing!
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