Purpose

AN: Sorry, I'm late to the party. My invite got lost in the mail. This is my first offering as part of EnkiduO7's drabble challenge. This is my first drabble. I love the discipline required to get a thought across in such a limited forum so I hope this works. 100 words on the nose. I had promised sex and pain and I'll get to it but something about the word "Combustible" led me to this. Hope it's not too stupid. I've enjoyed everyone else's so much I just had to play, so ta for letting me.


Dean studied the end of the match, the combination of colors and chemicals that produced that sudden flash of fire with the flick of a thumbnail

Creation and destruction joined at the end of a tiny sliver of wood. The match never knew what would set it off and why, only that it was always waiting for that sudden moment of combustible purpose, it's reason for existing.

The moment that gave it meaning.

He thumbed the little stick to life, watched it burn for a few seconds, then tossed it in the grave.

Sometimes, he knew how that match felt.


End Notes: I'll have a chapter up for Madness in a day or so. Sorry it's taking so long.