I placed the dry twigs across the fireplace grate, trying to lay enough of a foundation to build the fire but arranged loosely enough to let oxygen through to feed the flames. I then added some paper to get the quick burn started.

———————–

Well, that’s incredibly boring.

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Isn’t it Snoopy who is always trying to write this incredibly amazing introduction for his novel about the Red Baron when suddenly Woodstock flutters his way over and interrupts thus providing a bit of comic relief as well as a direction to hold interest for the reader?

Good God, I could use a Woodstock now.

———————–

The last of wood is disintegrating into red orbs, glowing amidst a pile of ashes.

There is a tiny blue flame struggling to stay lit.