Father pokes the steak on the fire while mother, fingers shaking, offers aid. Meat flicked onto plate, she cuts, says “Wait a while,” then hides away in shadowed smoke. Nobody knows.
The family feasts around the fire. Everyone’s plate is filled. Mouths munch and laugh and talk and ask for more and nobody knows.
They dance round the flames. Too close, child’s tiny feet and hands… too close the hair that swirls… too close, marshmallow held to flame… too close the stick that falls, that sparks, that burns.
No-one knows why, not even she. She’s always been frightened of fire.