on the way to school i was cautiously slurping the mocha and hot chocolate concoction my mum made, in small increments because it was too hot to cool down quickly enough with my saliva. each time i sipped the warmth would turn into burning on my lips. the velocity of the car over a speed bump chucked my cupped hands back, and forth went a huge dollop of lava onto my tongue. it hurt, and i'm fine now as i write this at the blade of the sun bleeding through the car's windows. what i'm more worried about is how much i liked the burn. so now this fool is much too scared to try it again in fear of discovering the art of masochism.
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