Bonfire
I went to a firework party organised by my employer. The local Boy scouts had built us a guy to put on the bonfire. One of the company directors was there with his two children. They had the honour of lighting the fire.

I remember standing there watching these two angelic girls being carried, one on either hip of their loving father. He handed each one of his darling children a long (actually, it was fucking massive) matchstick which they poked delightfully into the base of the bonfire.

I recall the warm fuzzy orange glow on their faces as the flames leapt higher and higher, the dry wood and tinder catching alight with ease. I recall their faces screwing up and the words "BURN HIM! BURN HIS FACE" echoing around as the flames licked the feet of the guy.

I still hear them in my nightmares.
(plant rolls out of bed like a fat wobbly tub of lard, Fri 24 May 2013, 12:18, 1 reply)

I hope they were identical twins
Dressed identically and staring at you with serious, unblinking eyes.

Sleep tight!
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Wed 29 May 2013, 11:05, closed)