The Salamander. The very beginning. To burn. To burn was joyance. He beheld as the pages was on fire. The flame ate one page after another. His face was lighting yellow in the darkness. Usually the brigade worked at night. Having left the fire-station he went to the undergroung station where the large steel worm ate him. His working day was over. Walking back home in the street he stopped near the turn. He felt someone behind the corner.. Like a light wind of the gentle motion was coming from there. "There is someone there", he thought.