This bit of writing fell out last night before I went to sleep

An old man walking with two dogs and a can of kerosene. When they reach the park he squats over his dogs, opens the can, pours it over them then reaches into his pocket. Pulls out a disposable blue lighter – the shopgirl asked which colour, he said it didn’t matter, she chose blue. He lends the flame to each dog’s coat and quickly steps back. Dogs yap, roll and are generally disturbed. The old man watches. A youngish girl watches the watching from the other side of the park resigned to her inaction, attempting to trace the scale. Perhaps it had been that time the two junkies were pushing each other at 9am in an alley with all sorts of people seeing the violence and walking quickly on. The aggressor backed off and at the time she said internally, if it had continued I would do something. Or the time someone’s bag was stolen twenty or so paces in front of her. When the woman turned round and said that her bag had been stolen she kept walking, had to get home, make dinner, go to bed, etcetera. The scale, or just life events in succession led to the man whom she knew for some reason or other was going to do bad and her unmoved on a bench.