"Miss! My mum says I ain't 'llowed to play with fire. She'll go barmey if she finds out."
"James, your mother signed your permission slip for camp. I think you will find she already knows we will be teaching you how to make fire."
"My mum never reads those things, Miss. She just signs 'em as she curses bloody bureaucrats and paperwork. She says I'm a danger to meself with matches and I'm banned from playing with fire."
"James, it is part of the course curriculum, I think you will find it is okay this time."
She straightens herself with a sigh and casts a stern eye around her cast of misfits.
"Now boys, please concentrate. We place the kindling and the dry leaves at the bottom of the fire trench, and then add the smaller timber on top. As the fire catches we will add the larger pieces until we have a small blaze with a constant heat."
"MISS!"
"James, just focus on following my instructions please."
"MISS!"
"James, PLEASE. Just wait a minute while I get this fire lit. Then we can discuss the question of your mother's issues with you and pyromania!"
"There, that looks to be catching nicely, boys put some of the larger logs on top... JAMES! What on earth have you done? Put that child out immediately!"
It is 3am and this is my Write on Wednesday. As good as it gets after yesterday. *Sigh*.
Please, feel free to criticise as constructively as you can.
Off to read now.
