Michael Eza

A Scene From "Burning Hickory"



Posted: Wednesday, October 19, 2011

by Michael Eza

I watched the smoke from burning hickory and cedar chips as it swirled around and rose up the chimney inside my grand-fathers fireplace.   The flames warmed the entire far side of this gigantic room, but towards the entrance it was still cold and a bit drafty.   We had a heat pump, one my grandfather had actually designed, but we had always agreed that there was nothing that felt, smelled or cost less than building a fire with your own two hands.

 I got up from my blue velvet arm chair which had about six inches of cushioning the whole way around and grabbed the poker from the basket on the tiles in front of the fire place.  I sighed a little and I looked to my right as I turned one of the logs over.  I noticed my reflection in the ash shovel as new sparks and flames ignited from within the t-pea of wood I had made.

I had a bit of ash on my face and it looks like I’ve been here researching too long.  My dirty blond hair had become matted down on top and curled near my side burns.  And although I couldn’t quite tell from my reflection my eyes were so strained and stingy from sweat that they had to be bloodshot. Now the fire had picked up again I put down the poker and put “The Psychology of Family Loss; Reaching Out and Holding Back” back on the bottom shelf where the red carpet met the tile in front of the fireplace.   I looked over the other books on the shelf and the one above it and the one above that.  I walked to the other side of the tiles and looked at the books over there.  I looked through the text books scattered and most of them open on the round table I bought myself for this room.  I looked through my notes to see maybe if we had talked about these types of personality disorders in class and for maybe reasons like lack of sleep or too many hours with no coffee I couldn’t remember it. And alas it wasn’t in any of the texts either.  The miniature big Ben on the cold side of the room chimed twelve times and I had to be at the hospital for four tomorrow morning so instead of finding the answer I closed my review guide and the glass doors to the fire place pushed the button to close the flue and watched the flames suffocate before I went up the elevator to get some sleep in my room for a change.
Michael is an activist who has helped solve problems with the environment, children's health and he has helped to find missing children.

Take a look at some of his stories and feel free to comment, like, or high 5 them. He generally writes about all sorts of topics, most of his recent topics are about teaching, writing and poetry.

Love the words! Wryte Stuff.
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