A Fizzle of a Good Time... or Was It?
It was his idea of a good time...
It was his idea of a good time. He would take a match and light a piece of paper and listen to it fizzle as it reached the end. As the flames engulfed the paper nearly putting itself out, he would toss the ashy remains into a small glass ashtray, watching the rest fizzle out of existence. Several times he would just burn different things. Sometimes he would experiment with different materials - other times with bigger objects. But mostly he stuck to the small pieces of paper. He loved watching the flames engulf the tiny piece of parchment.
On one particular night, he decided he wanted to play with fire in a different way. He started brushing the flame up and down his pants leg. He needed to add a little extra boost. He looked around the house wondering what he could use. At first he wasn’t sure. He looked around the living room, but the candles didn’t seem dangerous enough. He walked into the bathroom where he saw a variety of new adventures - cleaners of all varieties, aerosol cans of hairspray, and other magical items that could cause an explosive reaction.
He decided the hairspray would be his best bet. He brought it with him to the living room. He pressed down on the little white button and smelled the sweet sticky mist of raspberry freshness. It reminded him of his Mom. A mother who was never home because she had two jobs to support this family. He felt like such a burden. Did she even really know who he was or what his passion in life was?
He sat down on the couch and grabbed the lighter from his pocket. He flicked the lighter a few times before hitting the button on the hairspray. Within an instant he had an instant fruity blowtorch. Something he never saw before. His mom would not approve if she saw him now. He kept creating his blowtorch, pointing it in different directions, but never really aiming it at anything in particular. He didn’t want to start a fire, he just wanted to see the flame.
Mid-flame, his mother burst through the front door. In surprise, he threw the flames toward the curtains. It didn’t take long before the fire traveled from the curtains to furniture and up the wall to the ceiling. Instantly the house was burning. He stood there in shock, not knowing what to do. His mother grabbed him by the arm and dragged him outside, yelling the whole time. He couldn’t understand her words, everything was fuzzy. Was she yelling at him for being stupid or yelling at him to get to safety?
He could hear the sirens in the backyard. Everything happened so fast and before his eyes, their house was burning to the ground. All because he was trying to have a good time!
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