Bonfires in November
“It’s cold as fuck outside”, I repeated at intervals like a mantra. We were walking to some destination past the deserted house with the pleather furniture and deeper into the woods. I could see figures ahead of us sway with their half empty drinks, and I was glad their backs didn’t turn as I ungracefully tripped on several tree stumps.
It would be comical if it were not me. And suddenly it was, comical, as I watched my friends guzzle flat beer in a fail attempt at keeping warmth and making people appear much more attractive in their cloudy minds. The bonfire put my mind at ease as I watched the ember float above us all.