I wanted the fire set in front of the porch, on the patch of dry muddy ground at the top of the path. In better days it might have served as a vegetable patch. I never quite got around to looking into how to do that. A tray full of soil with some tomato seeds in, was that all there was to it? Or did you plant them in the ground? I had an allotment somewhere, as part of the main property, abandoned, unattended and derelict. Only now did I wonder how it was faring. I don’t think I’d ever trodden foot inside the thing.
The whole rigmarole of destroying the contraband felt like a marathon. Lugging it onto the front of the cabin wouldn’t take much muscle, it wasn’t all that very heavy, but as far as I knew, firestarting needed a flammable agent. Under the kitchen sink was a decent starting place to look for something like turpentine. In truth, I could testify there was no petrol on the premises. Did I have a jerry can, to fill up with some at the garage? Hmm. Somewhere, perhaps, maybe, yeah, correct. Probably under the sink, next to the turps. Both standing together, as two rather unique objects. Then again, probably not.
What else filled my checklist, for [un]controlled fire? Because so far, if I was relying on what lay under the kitchen U-Bend pipe, I might be running into problemos i.e., having nothing there. Surely there was something there. Had to be. Everyone had stuff under the kitchen sink. Mostly cleaning products, I bet. I seem to recall the meagre beginnings of a humble jumble sale down inside mine. I once found a bottle of vodka I can’t remember purchasing stashed within. Wrapped inside a hoover bag. Of course I necked it. Didn’t doubt it for a second. But I was absolutely certain I did not buy it. Or hide it. Why would I hide it, if I bought it?
Now, did I possess any firelighters? Firelighter was a strange term for a firelighter. Firelighter indicates a matchstick, or an actual gas lighter, something that ignites an opening spark to a flame. Firelighters are actually more like different versions of mini logburners. They should be called firecatchers, not firelighters. The ones I was familiar with resemble tiny squares of hardened foam or sponge, or cardboard, or little pillows. They burned independently for quite some time. On their own, they were a small fire. I suppose they started bigger fires. Ideal for barbecues, that kind of stuff. Even bonfires.
This fire, this one soon to be belonging to me, the special penultimate one on my mind at the moment, was set to be grand. I was drinking to it, yes drinking (!) in the presence of my chummy amicable angelico. I was sure there was an easy way to get it lighted. Once burning, we could both watch together whomever plans it was to seriously thwart my life go up in trippy smoke. And trippy the smoke would be! Wow. Best not stand too close! Part 5 due shortly
∟,m~k┐.⸎ↈU..ðŸ§
🧨🔥🧯
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