A Single Match
I recently wrote this piece to read at one of my art collectives open mics. Hope you enjoy!
A single match is lit in the middle of a forest and is dropped to the ground with a silent but deafening bang.
The match’s fire immediately grasps for the dead pine needles littering the ground around it, feeding off the dry grass underneath and quickly absorbing everything within its path.
Tendrils of smoke begin its circulation through the air, enveloping its long, spindly fingers around thorns and branches of the forest's underbrush. It slowly makes its way across the ground, gliding over rocks and thick tree roots, and gently suffocates any creature that is too slow to escape its clutches.
The flames steadily grow larger by the minute and take their claim of the tall trees that have stood for centuries. The trees cry out in pain, but their voices are muffled by the roar of the fire as it continues to assert its dominance, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.
Humans attempt to combat the flames by dumping gallons of water upon them, their planes and helicopters disrupting the ecosystem of lakes as they fill their large buckets in hopes of reducing the damage they have already created.
The Earth breathes a heavy sigh, pained from the heat that scorches across her skin. She begins to cry, teardrops falling from the sky and landing upon the flames, drenching the soil beneath them and bringing her some much-needed relief.
Steam stretches towards the sky as the rain extinguishes the last of the fire. The storm subsides, leaving behind soggy grass and muddy pathways. The humans reach out to the heavens and thank their various gods and all-powerful beings for helping put an end to the disastrous event.
The Earth, though, shudders ever so slightly. While the humans rejoice and forget the damage they created, she will forever remember the pain through the scorch marks that stretch along her surface and the black that marks the trees who will never grow their needles and leaves again.
