When looking outside
All you could see was white.
He brings me hot chocolate
And we sit in front of the fire.
He looks at me,
The flames reflecting in his eyes, and asks,
“When did you first feel this type of heat?”
My mind immediately flashes back
To the house on top of a hill in Georgia.
It’s a cold night
My brother and I indulged in our Friday night ritual:
Binge-watching Disney shows.
The fireplace has an eerie glow
And draws my attention away from the sitcom in front of me.
I float towards it, tempted to touch it but,
Well aware of the repercussions,
Stuck a piece of paper inside instead.
I held tight to the flaming page in my hand,
Mystified by its color and intensity.
Then it got hot.
I dropped the paper
Screaming as the fire enveloped the carpet.
Tripping over his blue pajama pants,
My brother ran to get my dad.
Pots of water became my salvation.
Before my dad could stumble in to save the day,
The last drip fell onto the final spark.
Snapping back to reality, I am hesitant to share the story.
That happened in another life.