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He lived. He was aware. He was everything in his world. He was...
Flames wrapped themselves around his body, pouring sinuously around him. For a few seconds, as he stood in the center of the floor, he writhed; pure reflex; then he relaxed and gave himself up to the heady luxury of the roaring fire which clothed his body. He basked in flames.
His mind was afire, too. It feels like ... like satin ice! No, it's different. It's ... it was something new; his senses were still adjusting themselves to the new reality, and his mind contained no images with which to compare it. He didn't see or hear Fran open the door.
"MAX!"
He shook his flaming body and a few brief cinders fell away in sparks. Then, suddenly, he had snuffed out the aura of flames; he was standing nude on a smoking carpet, grinning tentatively at the girl. He swallowed and said "Hell of a time for you to show up, Fran."
