By Kayvan Kaboli
The phoenix’s only solace is death, for in order to be born, it first wishes to die.
It is both its own child and its own parent, and also its own heir.
It is both nurse and infant.
In truth, it is itself, and yet not the same self,
for it has gained the eternity of life through the blessing of death.
Lactantius - Lucius Caecilius Firmianus - 250 – 325 AD
The television was reporting the fire approaching nearby neighborhoods. Staring at the flames on the TV screen—broadcast by one of San Diego’s channels showing the massive wildfires in Southern California—had frozen him motionless on the couch for a few moments. He felt the fire within himself, more on his head and face than anywhere else in his body. This particular sensation was new to him. He couldn’t say exactly whether this inner heat was joy at the fire nearing the neighborhood where he had a house, or the result of the quick, strong puffs he had taken from the special hookah twenty minutes earlier.
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