Trash Fire
Convincing myself it was a courtesy, I scraped the head of the match against the coarse side of the box, my eyes widening with pyro-maniacal joy as it sparked to life; the initial, hissing flare ultimately settling into a more subdued and silent flame. --- We had guests -- long-time family friends, currently seated on the back patio, chatting with my mother. The concrete patio, covered in the flaking green paint applied by a previous homeowner, spread out to the right from the back door in the kitchen, nestling into the corner of the L-shaped home, a large sliding glass door on the adjacent wall. Azalea bushes of varying size and shape isolated the patio from the otherwise sizeable backyard that lay beyond. Immediately to the left of the backdoor was a slight drop-off to ground level -- only a few inches lower, really, but a decent spot for laying pavers beneath the outdoor faucet and connected hose. This side of the patio, near the drop-off, was typically reserved for the