• It was impossible.
    Improbable.
    Inconceivable.
    Incomprehensible.
    And any other words starting with “I” to describe how unthinkably unthinkable it was.
    Now, as much knowledge we possess as a whole, there's no one who claims to know everything there is to know about the human being. Heck, a good fifty percent of the brain is a mystery to even the most astute scientist. It wouldn't be a surprise if we had latent ESP powers or something.
    But Mekelle was pretty sure that, despite the mystery factor, human beings usually do NOT breathe fire.
    Normal human beings, anyway.
    The incident happened this morning. The stupid alarm clock had failed to go off for, like, the fourth time this week, making Mekelle have to rush around like a deranged hummingbird. Yanking on a pair of Levis while shoving her arms through a teal sweater (an impressive feat on her part), she zoomed into the kitchen, plugged in the toaster, and tossed in two slices of bread. She figured that if she slipped on her sneakers in tandem with the toast was being made, she could get in her car the moment it was done, take off, and make it to the college with seven minutes to spare. A pretty sound plan, she thought with a nod. Unfortunately, God decided it was His time to intervene just for the heck of it, and single-handedly shot any chances of arriving at school on time to Hell.
    The plastic lever squeaked in protest as it was harshly pushed down. Mekelle proceeded to bend forward and grasp a shoelace when a loud POP! caught her attention. Looking up, she saw the toaster had ejected the bread, fluffy and untoasted. Another push was administered, but to Mekelle's steadily growing annoyance, it immediately popped back up. She tried a third time, this time holding it down for a few seconds before releasing. The bread sprang out to greet her once more.
    It was becoming extremely difficult not to throttle the piece of metal, so, fighting for composure, Mekelle gave it another go, praying to all that is holy it would cooperate.
    Of course it didn't, stubbornly refusing to turn the bread to toast.
    An icy gray stare was leveled upon it before the lever was pushed yet again, twice in rapid succession, and still it wouldn't yield.
    In the span of a heartbeat, Mekelle's fuse (which wasn't terribly long to begin with) sizzled out of existence.
    It was all she could stand, and she couldn't stand no more. How dare she be denied the only food she would be able to eat for the next couple of hours until lunch. The toaster now had to die; that was the only solution. Her fist clenched as she let out an irritated huff, plotting the quickest way to cause it's demise.
    And then the unthinkably unthinkable happened.
    For as the huff of breath left her being, so did a small plume of fire. Actual fire! That stuff that causes forests to burn down and keeps your house warm during the winter time! That stuff that, as far as she knew, usually needs a match to light and DOESN'T come out of humans, unless they swallowed gasoline and performed at a circus!
    As she suffered from a mental freakout, body freezing up in shock, she failed to notice the flickering ember descending onto the toaster. Within moments, the poor metal object was ablaze, charred an inky black as it was consumed in glittering orange flames, melting and contorting into a shape that looked vaguely like a squished hamburger patty.
    The acrid smoke billowing in thick waves and the shrill keen of the smoke alarm jolted the frazzled girl back to awareness. With a yelp, she grabbed a dishtowel from the sink and whacked at the former toaster, muttering low in her throat about incompetent appliances. In truth, she was still stunned at what occurred, but there was no time to dwell on it now. This little fiasco cost her four and a half minutes, which left two and a half to get to Cordyline College. There was no way she could make up this lost time, unless she broke some speed limits. Not that she was opposed to it, but police interference wouldn't be helping at all.
    Steeling herself for the chewing out she knew she was going to receive from her teacher, Mekelle turned to leave... then tripped over her untied shoelaces and face-planted the ground.