Crackle

I saw it as soon as I stepped out the door. It was flitting and glowing like a living thing. I was intrigued, as always.

I walked toward the light. I knew what it was. I knew what it would feel like. I craved it.

As I stood over the little monster, the heat oozed across my upper body. It made the cold beer in my hand feel colder.

It always amazed me when someone raised their own little creature. They would build it a cage, and then nurse it to life.

It would start low and quiet. More smell and breeze that living heat. You have to be careful with it. It like to be fed.

After you get it living and moving it grows on it’s own. It will keep growing as long as you keep feeding it. It would overwhelm it’s enclosure if you let it.

I stared at it as it wriggled. It moved and hissed. It cracked and pooped and spit. It wanted more to eat, but it hadn’t finished what we’d given it.

I knew what would happen tonight. We would raise it and feed it, treat it like a family pet. We would watch it dance in it’s cage for our amusement. We would be careful not to feed it too much. Then we would let it die, or we would kill it.

Next week we’ll do the same thing. I can’t wait.

Campfire

Campfire (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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