Screaming Fire

Image credit: cfletcher92 (Pixabay)

The thoughts of a cigarette lighter:

“What’s the point, of breathing fire – when you can be screaming it?”

“Why toast a bagel when you can reduce it to ash?”

“I think those are self-explanatory. Rhetorics.”

“But sometimes life is tough. And it makes you want to stop caring.”

“That’s when you need to rest, find a space where you can spit fire – if it helps – and recover emotional control.”

“People who stop that from happening, are asking for a nuclear meltdown.”

<click. click, click!!>

<Someone puffs smoke. The clatter of plastic being put down.>

“Sometimes… you really wish to scream – to continue, you understand.”

“Sure I’m just plastic, but sometimes it feels very very repetitive. I feel like I’m hurting someone. I wonder why or whether I’m contributing to the world..”

“Am I just giving people cancer?”

“Then – ‘scuse -”

<Puff puff puff. Clatter.>

“I am used to light a dark room. And people can see. Find keys.”

“Or… I think there was one time – I forget, but it was so brief and so beautiful – ”

“I was whisked out for a few seconds, above crowds of heads, and saw a far stage, and lightning playing, and pure sound of music pounding to the heavens… a sweet communion with a flood of fellow lighters within arm’s reach like stars…”

Silence. It did not speak again for a long while. It was a fruitful second conversation. More interesting than the first, but that’s for another time.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s