I went outside and built a bonfire in the yard. We passed a bottle of bourbon around. Soon all the wood was used up. I got the chairs off the porch and threw them in. When they were gone, I grabbed anything that would burn––my daughter’s wagon, rakes and shovels, a bag of bark dust. I pulled our redwood picnic table across the yard and set it on the fire. I got the gas can from the garage and poured it on. There was an enormous ball of orange flame that blossomed into the night air. We cheered and clapped.

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  1. rochellewisoff

    Dear Josh,

    It sounds like a bang-up celebration for some reason. I only hope they didn’t toss .45 cartridges into the blaze. Well described. I’m taking cover now. Never know when Uncle Eddie is lurking around the corner.



  2. Lynn Love

    Even without reading any of the comments, I felt there was something darker coming, that this random burning of anything and everything could only lead to some dreadful tragedy. It’s as if the protagonist wants to burn the world up. Lovely writing Josh

Don't just stand there.