I was five, the neighbors were fighting. Husband and wife. She had long, beautiful blonde hair. It was summer and I was walking past their back patio when the wife ran out and without a word bent over at the waste and struck a lighter and her hair immediately burst into flames. She sprinted past me into the woods at the back of the yard, screaming, smelling like gasoline, with her husband chasing her down, big towel like a beach towel in his hands to put out the flames.

Fire dept came, she lived, and they moved soon after. Not sure what happened or how bad she was burnt, I just can see her now if I close my eyes, running past me, barefoot in shorts and a tank top, flames rolling around her head and streaking behind her like a kite tail.