Write on Wednesdays: Making Fire

This week, the WoW prompt was the words "We are learning to make fire." It was another five minute timed exercise, which I usually enjoy but I had a little trouble with this one. Wasn't really sure what to write about, though I think this came out fine in the end. Well, here you are:




We are learning to make fire. Slowly, grinding the skin of the earth into flakes. Filling the bowl of dirt with golden flames. Shards of the old life will drift skyward with the ashes. Lighter and lighter, faster and farther they fly up. I watch them lifted by the breeze, up into the bowl horizon, the clouds of grey dreams sitting low over the land.

The fire will burn steadily, the warmth inside us will rekindle the joy of long ago. Primal spirits drift in the wind, whipping this way and that, twining through my hair. The dancing flames will lick the sides of the bowl, happily nipping fingers and pieces of wood. The ashen sky reflects the ruby of the fire. Soon it will be the inky indigo of twilight, then the residual blackness of night. For now, it stays grey and silent. It does not answer the calls of the fire, which crackles merrily and longs for a playmate. Just like a little child, dancing in the breezes, chasing the leaves which float eerily around it.

 I watch the fire begin to die. In one night, the cycle of a lifetime. The fire is old and creaky, longing to take its last rattling breath and ascend to new adventures. I pour sand over the fire, dousing its misery. We have learned to make fire, and fire has learned how to live.