Fire

I was fire-watching up in the mountains trying to write. So far I’d burnt everything I’d written.

The solitude wasn’t sparking anything. I gave it a rest and took treks in the forest, going back to drink wine by the firelight.

One day I spotted smoke and ran back to radio in. The set was dead. I watched the fire spread, and it came to me as though I’d breathed it in.

I dived inside and wrote in a fury of inspiration. It was the best thing I’d ever written.

I finished just as the flames were licking the cabin.

Fire

ian osborne

Joined January 2010

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Artist's Description

An experiment in extreme chopping trying to get down to 100 words.

This started off at 376.

Artwork Comments

  • Charmiene Maxwell-Batten
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