Love

Not quite sure how this happened, but it made sense to me at the time. I suppose it could fall under "Experimental Fiction" but I could also just be too full of myself.

There are wooden logs in the fireplace. A match sparks. Flame rushes to life and the logs moan and crack. Fire licks the bricks of the fireplace, purifies and blackens them. A log breaks, and spits burning embers on the perfect carpet and the well manicured wooden floor. Wisps of smoke rise, harbingers of what is to come. In the smoke a mirage of the future can be seen, twisted and messy. Smoke tendrils creep like fingers, soft and tender like touch. They smudge the old framed paintings and photographs, they leave their soot on a life well lived.

The room is ablaze. Tapestries and furniture make for terrific kindling as the inferno envelops every inch of faux order and careful craftsmanship. Glass strains and fights a losing battle against the otherworldly heat before finally giving in to the heavenly pressure and it shatters, the noise like a cosmic shift that disturbs the uncaring night silence. 

The wind starts to rouse from its slumber, geriatrically at first. Curious whistles travel round the fire, waiting anxiously for permission to join the fray. The fire welcomes it with alacrity. An ominous hum sets the fallen leaves to motion, rolling and skidding off the ground one after another- an energized funeral procession. Hum becomes sound and sound becomes scream, as the wind rattles the burning window shutters and unearths the trees. And it drives the fire to a frenzy and it carries the newly reformed, still hot ash to the skies.

Ash rises and covers the stars and moon, damning the fated future. Ash invades the lazy clouds and claims them, soon after rain and snow are replaced with grey-white flakes, smothering and unending. In its ubiquity, ash finally envelops the sun and denies the earth its warmth.
Cold, unknown to anything. Cold, long forgotten. Plants go first and soon animals follow. Life cedes, slowly and sweetly, reminiscent of a sand castle that tried to defy the tide.

Ash has stopped falling and all sit still. The moon and stars and sun are free again. And the ash becomes fertile ground, until something is reborn to build a room and to build a fireplace.