Thursday, January 6, 2011

The flame

My writing is inspired by sources all around me. This month a song I heard while listening to "playing for change" inspired the essay that will follow. The triggers for my imagination to unfold comes from the behavior of people, music I hear, the natural world around me. They are forces I take seriously because they are my muse. The song I heard had a line about the ability to blow out the candle.... and my mind took the bate and I wrote something for those involved with Alcoholic Anonymous. Why post such an essay if I do not belong to this particular club I will never know. As a writer, it is the behavior on mankind that feeds my pen.
So I wrote a short essay:

The Flame

The candle stood alone and I blew the flame out, I was satisfied.
I will have one beer and no more, I will watch the charred wick. I can do this.
Maybe one more beer, I know it is okay.
The house next door, west of me is, is on fire.
I cannot blow the flames out, that will feed the fire.
My son is safe, he is at the house to the east, my son is safe.
My candle does not burn, I will have one more beer.
I will watch the blacken wick. I know my son is safe at the house to the east or was it the west.

The flames are being nourished by something I cannot see, better have one more beer.
The flames are mesmerizing, I will have one more beer.
What time is it? Where do all the empty bottles come from? I lost track.
Where is my son? What happened?

The ambulance came, his face was charred like the wick on my candle.
My son is dead, his flame burns no more.

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