Write about building a fire.
It was getting dark, and they'd already wasted half an hour with the tents (in all fairness, Lex thought, even a pop-up tent could go disastrously wrong. As they'd discovered).
"Guys," Lex implored for the third time, "we have to get this fire going." The others, especially the boys, looked at her quizzically. "Well, we won't eat if we don't." You'd've thought they had been struck by lightning at the rate they leapt into action.
"Right." Tom clapped his hands authoritatively. "Let's do this!" The others responded equally as enthusiastically, all leaning forwards in their sagging chairs and effectively blocking Lex from the fire. She simply sat back and waited for the fireworks – or lack thereof.
"Look, you're not doing it right," came a few minutes later.
"I know how to start a fire, thank you very much!"
"Then why isn't it lit yet?" It was so dark they had begun to use torches to see what they were doing. Lex found a monster bag of opened Doritos and began munching.
"I don't know! Maybe the wood's damp?"
"It hasn't rained in days, Tom! Face it, you have no idea what you're doing!"
"Well, neither do you!" Tom protested feebly.
"Yes, but at least I admitted that and didn't try and be a big show-off – and fail dramatically!"
"Guys, guys," Lex cut in, the amusement of their argument fading – fast. "Move back, let me start the dang fire." She shoo'd them away, even Tom eventually, who sat back with his tail between his legs.
Lex stood the sticks in a pyramid and stuffed it with firelighters. Then, she threw a few Doritos on top of the kindling and picked up the flint firelighter they'd been using. It took a few strikes for her to even make a spark, but after seven or eight attempts she had the Doritos and some of the kindling lit. Blowing gently, the sticks soon caught. Not five minutes after she'd knelt down, Lex stood back and smiled smugly in their dumbfounded faces. She took a mock bow. "Thank you, thank you very much."
"How... how did you do that?" Tom asked in amazement.
"Lex is just awesome," Angela, the girl who'd been arguing with him earlier answered. "Much better than you, at any rate." Tom clutched his heart in a dramatic attempt to look offended.
"Handbags down, ladies," James, another of the boys, said. "I want s'mores!" Still glaring at Angela, Tom stood, located the marshmellows, chocolate and biscuits, and dolled them out amongst them. They picked up their sticks they'd whittled earlier, all except for Angela who brought a lot of kebab sticks.
"Joke's on you," Tom said, sitting back in his easy chair leisurely whilst Angela had to crouch close to the fire – and smoke – in order to melt her marshmellow. She probably would have responded but, at that moment, had a face full of ash.
This is the life, Lex thought, watching her friends argue good-naturedly and eat their sugar-laden snacks. They were all going their separate ways at the end of the summer, but now wasn't the time to wallow and wait. Now was the time to live.
YOU ARE READING
To Warm Frozen Fingers // A Short Story Collection
Short StoryI like to write. As you may be able to tell. I haven't been very good at writing lately. As you may also have been able to tell. That's why I've decided to write a short story collection. The stories won't interlink, some may vary wildly and you mig...
