firelighters
once upon a time (and space), there lived people who believed they were the best in the world—mostly because they had very, very firey ambitions. what they never quite realised was that their world was on fire. their world was fire.
when someone wanted to see a black forest, they took a chocolate cake and set fire to it—instead of, you know, the usual: stepping outside at night and looking around. it was a black forest they lived in. if only they knew.
when the floods arrived, they set the water on fire too because “black water would be nice to see”—instead of, you know, the usual: mixing the remains of charred black forest cake into a jar of floodwater.
years later, when i was older but not as old as people my age were, someone got very excited about something. the entire town gathered, dug a neat hole in the ground, and scorched the absolute heck out of it. i was told he could die peacefully now, having finally fulfilled his lifelong dream of seeing a black hole from very close. that too, alive.
they were extremely resourceful people (assuming fire counts as a resource, which i’m pretty sure it does — PLEASE DON’T SET ME ON FIRE. OR I WON’T WRITE NICE THINGS ABOUT YOU. THANKS!): they never ran out of fire, or things to set fire on.
i am still waiting for the day they set fire to fire itself. i desperately want to see black fire—instead of, you know, the usual: inverting the colours on a digital painting of a campfire under a night sky.
