A New piece...look for it in installments....
© 2002 Diana Lee Fitzwater all rights reserved
My grandfather was always fond of reading, to people during a winter camping trip, Jack London’s “To Build a Fire.” I remember his voice reading it so clearly as I toss the match to my bonfire. I’m burning thirty years of my life, Thirty years that were spent in dark rooms alone, Imagining what life with others was like.
I’ve soaked Five thousand Pages of text, thirty floppy discs and Two cd roms of material with as much kerosene as I had in my cabin. I’ve marched out to the widest medow I can reach so that I destroy only this, like Viktor chasing his creation to the pole, I am determined that he’ll never surface again.
The paper will burn quickly, then the discs will melt, all that will be left probably are some staples and the few metal parts. not enough for him to sneak back.