A-Z Part Q
In
the alcove at the side of the fireplace, a brass box holds kindling sticks and
firelighters. There is coal in the scuttle and logs in a basket. The grate has
some ash, craters of it, like a moonscape. Claire ponders raking it out, but
then again, it is a light layer, it won’t choke out the draw of air. She has
done enough work to be happy with her day. She opens the brass lid of the box
to pull out a square of firelighter, a handful of sticks to make a fast blaze.
Echo, meanwhile, has wandered over and poked the curious ash.
‘Careful,’
Claire warns, gathering the child to her lap. ‘You can watch this, okay, but
then I put the fireguard up and you don’t touch. Ouch, hot!’
Echo,
intrigued, makes no comment. She studies the white cube of paraffin as it
catches the proffered flame. She studies the flames that spiral around the
skinny kindling.
‘Woff,’
she whispers.
‘Fire
is lively, like the dogs,’ Claire tells her. ‘Kind of sounds like woff, doesn’t
it? Woff woff, like Cerberus, guarding the gates of Hades. On both counts, mind
your fingers!’
They
sit, eyes lulled by the fire. Flames sway, knot themselves in energetic bursts
around twigs; shape to a dense glow that ignites the larger sticks, that jumps
up more flame. Hot colours dance, entrancing adult and child. Fractal patterns
of smoke leak out. Claire’s mind idly pats words around: heat, flame,
heartstring, connected.
Echo
sits on Claire’s lap, growing heavier, leaning stronger. Fire flares into
dreams.
Comments