Fire covers the pine forest in copper hues, lighting up his eyes as he fights it.
At home his palms sweat. There are unpaid bills, his wife didn’t get that job, his kid was bullied again.
He drifts back to the fire at night.
On the burned earth, he breathes.
I liked the contrast here. And the irony, his palms sweating at home but not while fighting a deadly fire.
Thanks for reading, Jen!
Sometimes it’s easier to have a tangible enemy to fight, yes? Someplace we feel confident, powerful, instead of helpless.
Absolutely!