Kneeling by the fireplace, I try to inspect it for any issues. It hasn’t been used in ages, but there are some logs in it and several more in the log holder next to it. It’s dusty and maybe I shouldn’t… But between the dim light and my chattering teeth, I decide it doesn’t matter.
Carefully, I squirt some of the lighter fluid onto the logs inside the fireplace, mindful not to get the smelly liquid on my clothes or the surrounding floor. Fumbling for the matches with stiff, cold fingers, I finally manage to light one and toss it on top of the pile of wood.
Please work, please work, I think as I rub my icy hands together briskly.
To my delight, the fire catches quickly and is soon roaring. I go back to the kitchen and put the bottle of fluid on the table, unsure if I’ll need more.
There’s got to be something else to help it keep burning.
Inspired, I walk quickly to the entryway closet and grab some old newspaper to throw into the heaping blaze, determined to keep the fire going for as long as possible.
I crumple a few pieces of the newspaper and toss them on top of the flames. Wow, now it’s really going.
The fire crackles loudly and the flames jump higher.
Oh shit, maybe it’s going a little too well, I realize.
But before I can even react to my initial surprise, within seconds the fire is fully ablaze and its hot flames are popping out of the fireplace area. Now able to see because of the brilliant flames, I dart into the kitchen to find a pot so I can douse the blaze with water.
I find the largest pot I can and fill it with water from the tap. I dash back to the hotly burning fireplace and throw the water onto it.
Nothing happens.
Oh god, it’s not enough!
The fire crackles just as strongly as before, and now there are sparks jumping out from the blaze too.
I repeat my efforts a few times – scurrying between kitchen and fireplace but to no avail. The fire only seems to be getting hotter and bigger, and my entire body is drenched with sweat from my dashing around and the sweltering heat. I can tell that my face is red from the heat, too, and my cheeks are hot to the touch. Still, I continue lugging pot after pot full of the cold water from the kitchen.
But the fire gets the best of me. Within a mere matter of minutes, sparks from the blaze jump from the old stone pit onto one of the nearby chairs.
I scream in shock and horror.
Oh god, I’m going to pass out from this heat.
Moaning, I almost want to run out the front door to escape this nightmare scenario but think better of it. I can’t let the cabin burn down! My family would kill me!
Determined now, I run back into the kitchen and strip away my many layers of clothes, until I’m wearing nothing but my bra and panties. Almost immediately cooler, my head starts to clear up so I can focus on putting out the fire.
I try not to think about the damage or the fact that the air inside the little cabin is filling up with smoke. Instead, I just refill the old pot and continue my frantic dash from sink to fire to sink, hoping with each douse of water, I’m closer to putting out the monstrous blaze.
8
Matt
As I round the last bend before reaching the cabin, I suddenly feel unsure about my late night mission to retrieve the engagement ring from Cora. It’s bold and not entirely rational, and plus I don’t want to scare her to death given the wild storm raging outside. Plus, it’s late. Who shows up this hour of the night?
Dammit. I’m not a man who tends to feel nervous, but something about Cora makes me that way.
Too late now, I sigh as I finally pull up to the quaint little cabin. But something is wrong with the little wooden cabin in front of me. Even in the dark rainy night, it’s obvious that the chimney is billowing tons of dark smoke, its hazy cloud filling up the air around the little cabin. I look back toward the front of the house and even from behind the closed curtains on the first floor windows, I see flashes of orange and yellow light.
What the hell? Is the cabin on fire?
“Holy shit!”
I park the car and jump out immediately, not caring that it’s pouring rain or that the wind is tearing down branches all around me. I run as quickly as I can to the front door, alarmed at what I might see inside. Hopefully, Cora got out before this blaze started.
I try to open the front door, but it’s locked. I pound hard on its heavy wooden frame, but even my loud knocking is no match for the roar of thunder and the cracking trees nearby. I listen at the door for any sound of life, but hear only the storm around me and the crackle of fire inside.