The Blaze: A Fire Memoir by amoret

It is November 2016. The election has taken place, and we are gathering around a fire.

We are in my backyard. It is early November and the air is cold. The flames grow strong our portable fire pit, and there is barely enough room for our group to gather around it in our postage stamp of a yard. Still, we gather.

At first, there is silence. Despair hangs in the hair, as heavy and potent as the smoke scented with the incense and flower petals we sacrifice to the heat.