those<\/em> families.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\nWhen it was time for the birthday cake, everything changed.<\/p>\n
Vicky held me in her manicured hands, the softness of her skin making me hotter by the second. I never thought about making fire before, but with Vicky, I felt safe. I didn\u2019t want to give up my fire so quickly, but when she serenaded me with \u201cHappy Birthday\u201d, I knew I\u2019d give in.<\/p>\n
Then she did it\u2014she spun my spark wheel. Fire spat out from me with an insuppressible passion. I might just be a generic, no-name brand lighter, but on that day\u2014that day I felt like a Zippo.<\/p>\n
I was living the good life. Sure, little Billy used me to light the family portrait on fire (he didn\u2019t get the iPad he wanted), but that led to Vicky\u2019s weekly de-stress ritual. Every Sunday Vicky would make herself Epsom salt baths, and I\u2019d light the lavender-scented candles. She would wash, and I would watch.<\/p>\n
One Sunday, Vicky\u2019s husband, Ron, came into the bathroom. (Don\u2019t worry, Ron and I had a mutual understanding.)<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan just called. We\u2019re going out for a few drinks,\u201d Ron said.<\/p>\n
\u201cHoney, I made a roast for tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe roast will still be here when I\u2019m back.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut it\u2019s Sunday. We\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis isn\u2019t up for discussion.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then Ron grabbed me in his thick, calloused man hands\u2014he probably didn\u2019t want to leave me alone with his now angry wife.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can be such an asshole, asshole!\u201d was the last thing I heard Vicky say.<\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\nChapter 4: <\/strong>La C<\/strong>hatte <\/strong><\/p>\nThe room was humid from men panting and women sweating. La Chatte had a French name and floors that didn’t stick; it was the classy strip joint.<\/p>\n
Miss E-Z was performing. Only a childhood of gymnastic training and an obsession with MTV could produce such maneuvers.<\/p>\n
\u201cRonny boy, I bet if you throw her a hundy, she\u2019ll step outside with us,\u201d said Ron\u2019s friend.<\/p>\n
A few drinks my ass.<\/p>\n
The stripper did step outside, and things happened in the alleyway I prefer not to talk about.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you have a light, hun?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ron tossed me to the stripper.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you doing? What\u2019s going on, Ron? You\u2019re supposed to light the smoke for her, like a gentleman. But no, you\u2019re no gentleman. You malicious, menacing, shit you.\u201d I knew I shouldn\u2019t light her smoke. I shouldn\u2019t ruin my polyandrous relationship with Ron and Vicky. Was Ron testing me? It didn\u2019t matter. I couldn\u2019t help myself. I needed to light something.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Chapter 5: Nicaragua <\/strong><\/p>\n\u201cNecesito cuatro kilos el viernes, Juan.\u201d I need four kilos by Friday, Juan, <\/em>the CIA agent said.<\/p>\n\u201cNecesitamos que mueran Ricardo y sus hombres.\u201d We need Ricardo and his men dead, <\/em>said Juan.<\/p>\n\u201cEst\u00e1 hecho.\u201d It\u2019s done<\/em>, said the CIA agent.<\/p>\n\u201cEntonces es hora de bailar tango.\u201d Then it\u2019s time to tango, <\/em>said Juan.<\/p>\nHow the hell did this lighter end up in Nicaragua? This story feels rushed.<\/em> That\u2019s what you\u2019re probably thinking. You could call me a mind-reader; a clairvoyant of sorts. Surprisingly, it only took twelve hours to get here. When you feel the way I do about sparking, you\u2019ll go anywhere with anyone. The formula goes as follows:<\/p>\nMiss E-Z (also an escort). \u2014>\u00a0 Congressman (surprisingly left-leaning. Great stance on immigration). \u2014>\u00a0 Back to an escort (this one looked like my Vicky. Oh Vicky, my love, my life, my one and only true spark spinner). \u2014>\u00a0 Banker (his wife left him so don\u2019t judge too quick). \u2014>\u00a0 Drug lord (very polite guy actually). \u2014>\u00a0 Colombian military official (shhh, he\u2019s secretly gay and apparently gives fabulous massages. The man knows how to spin a spark wheel). \u2014> The CIA agent (ugh, don\u2019t even get me started. So many lies). \u2014> Juan (drug trafficker and tango aficionado).<\/p>\n
Time flies in private jets.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Chapter 6: The Formula Cont\u2019d <\/strong><\/p>\nJuan (we go dancing in an underground Tango Bar in Argentina). \u2014> Mrs. Martin (esteemed tango dancer and cocaine enthusiast). \u2014> Mr. Martin (crooked police officer). \u2014> Joel Wayne (kid who had to give all his cash to Mr. Martin for smoking pot). \u2014> Tony Evangelista (buddy Joel met in Argentina. Tony brought me to Venice, which, by the way, is totally over-rated; way too much water). \u2014> Bobby Grant (frugal young traveler that brings me all over southeast Asia after he\u2019s \u2018done\u2019 Europe). \u2014> Jessica Klinger (meets Bobby in a designated smoking area in Denpasar\u2019s airport\u2014which doesn\u2019t even close its doors to the regular part of the terminal. Anyway, she brings me to South Africa). \u2014> Ricky Stevens (falls in love with Jessica, but must return home to Colorado). \u2014> Jane Stevens (smokes weed with her cousin, and then decides to disfigure me to make a greater flame. Now I ejaculate like an adolescent horn-dog. However, she brings me back home to Seattle).<\/p>\n
Now, some of you may have taken a first-year creative writing course, and you\u2019re thinking too much telling, not enough showing. <\/em>Well fine, here you go.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n
![\"NEON](\"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/BeforeLighter.jpg\")
THIS<\/p><\/div>
![\"BURNED,](\"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/AfterLighter.jpg\")
TO THIS<\/p><\/div><\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/p>\n
A character arc and all.<\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\nChapter 7: The Climax (or D<\/strong>enouement if You Will) <\/strong><\/p>\nThis brings us to the present.<\/p>\n
Here I am, ejaculating flames all over Jane\u2019s joint\u2014my lighter fluid is almost out. I figure \u00a0I may as well enjoy myself and become one highlighter. Sorry (not sorry) for the pun.<\/p>\n
Jane goes to spark her joint\u2014I cough up a pathetic spark. Jane throws me down on the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cJane, just tilt me to the side, damn it,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n
She pulls out a box of matches, the little slut.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re no match for me,\u201d I say. She doesn\u2019t hear my clever pun. I\u2019m a lighter.<\/p>\n
She lights her joint with the match, cheating on me before my eyes. Maybe I was nothing to her; nothing to anyone. My addiction used to the advantage of others.<\/p>\n
She throws the match on the ground and walks out from her unkempt incense-scented apartment. Her flea-market carpet begins to burn. I try to throw my body on to the match to diffuse it; go down in a blaze of glory, but I can\u2019t.<\/p>\n
The flames devour the basement apartment. Who lives upstairs? I feel myself melting into the carpet. I see a bright light. Am I going to heaven? No. It\u2019s just more flames. I feel something new. Have I crossed over to another dimension? I\u2019m warm inside, but I have no insides. I\u2019m nothing. I\u2019m everything. I\u2019m in a land of perpetual burning. The land brought together by lighters; connected by fire.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I saw the world, but not by choice.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":5407,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5406","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-humor"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5406","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/7"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5406"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5406\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5488,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5406\/revisions\/5488"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5407"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5406"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5406"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5406"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
![\"Photograph](\"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/Humor.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n