I Am Fire

Many thanks, you three! ^_^

Prokaryote

Most of what I was thinking has already been said, Proky. The only bit that realy threw me off was the "I did. We did." That sort of made it sound like the fires were all different entities... so do they all share some sort of collective Jungian fire-consciousness or something? Cool, but confusing.

And the ending, by the way, was awesome.

I loved it! Absolutely fabulous! Excellent word choice. It paints such a better picture in your mind when it is better described. The whole time I was reading it, the fire sounded like some kind of animal, or beast, who is kept locked up and wants out. Especially the part about trying to get the fingers, to no avail, and eyeing them with distain. Great work, very good.

Wow.

That was kind of frightening and very powerful. I think the ending was the best part though, because it was funny but still fit with the rest of the writing. It was almost poetic.

Holy awesome! Beautiful work. I love how you put fiddlesticks at the end. That was silly.

Amazing and beautiful. I loved the Fiddlesticks at the end it added a bit of humor.

That was great, I don't have much time to write an actual review, though I doubt you need it right now, considering all the reviews you've already recieved. But I can say that I love it, it was spectacular. And I love the ending "FIDDLESTICKS".
Kepp writing and I look forward to reading more of your work.

-iheartbooks♥

Rule of thumb: Don't bump up works that are more than two months old - and especially not if the only comment you have is "This is great".

Go poop your pants somewhere else, Gal. You're stinking up my thread.

This was a great piece of work! I placed myself in the very same position as the fire in your excerpt. I felt as it felt, I saw as it saw, I became one with it. I just had to read it twice. You explained and described the moods and actions flawlessly. Excellent job. BRAVO! BRAVO!

Fine, here's your critique.

I'm sure lots of people have told you this (34) but this is really great! I love your take on personified (Is that a word?) version of fire! FIDDLESTICKS. That is an epic win right there. Keep writing.

~Jasmine

Go poop your pants somewhere else, Gal. You're stinking up my thread.

That made me laugh out loud. I wouldn't have commented but for my need to let you know that.

So I decided to actually read the story after deciding I had to say that ^, but I'm afraid my comments will be as useless as almost everyone elses', because yeah, this was great. All I can say is about the title - it gives it away too fast. I'd like it if we didn't know what it was at first, you know. But that's all up to you, how you want to present it. So yeah, basically you're like a genius.

Prokaryote wrote:Go poop your pants somewhere else, Gal. You're stinking up my thread.

*dies laughing*

Okay. So, real critique.

I know I'm gonna sound like a broken record, but the ending was brilliant. It didn't make me laugh that much, but it was so unexpected and such a comical change in tone that it made me giggle.

Darn it. Everyone else has critiqued. I'm out of a job. Well done, Porky.

GRADE: A

Prokaryote wrote:I am feasting.

The kindle, twigs and sticks are my appetizer. The logs are my main course. Dessert lies forever out of reach.

Here they come, timber in hand: coming to feed me and my gluttonous disposition. My wispy limbs reach outward in longing: I hunger. I always hunger.

I let out a sigh as I receive a pine branch. They give it to me reverently; I am feared, respected; but I am also loved. Loved for my deceptive warmth, my devious embrace. Do they know what I would do if I had the chance? How much havoc I would gleefully sow in exchange for that brief joy, that brief ecstasy?

The pine tastes fresh, alive. Slightly moist. I siphon its life away: quickly at first, its sweet bark succumbing in an instant; and then slower as I meditatively envelop the wood's inner core, its lifeforce. I take the water and release it to the air. Table scraps.

I simultaneously eat and drink, taking oxygen from the atmosphere and savouring it like a fine wine. It is my accomplice: together we break down the toughest of foes. Together we are the most destructive machine ever devised. Together we are unstoppable. The black cloud we produce is a warning to anything living: You will die. We will consume you.

Here comes more. A man carries a log to my side and presents it to me. He is a good servant, but his fingers look delectable: if only I could reach a bit further, just a few more inches... but I cannot. I settle back and eye them. Someday.

It is the eternal irony: These animals depend on me for life, and yet I would destroy them in an instant. I am a raging bull; they must restrain and tame my fierce temper. They tease me with offerings, but will not allow me to grow, to mature, to reach my full potential.

I hate them for it.

One thrusts a stick out over me. My tongues lap up at the wood, tasting it: a marshmallow is stuck on the end, and its gooey consistency is a nice change from the normal pine. For a brief moment, I engulf the marshmallow completely, shriveling it into a charred lump of sugar. The stick is pulled away, and the human examines the end with what seems to be disappointment. Serves him right.

Revenge is the thing I do best. Who, after all, brought down the Library? Who dealt piercing blows to Rome and London? Who ravaged the White House? I did. We did.

There is a brief rustling in the circle; someone has retreated to bed. Two left.

They're talking about something; it's pointless drivel, no doubt. Yet my curiosity is piqued. "Know your enemy." -- "Knowledge is power." I cannot get close enough to hear. Those ashes have a bit of life left in them. Maybe I can reignite them.

A foot comes down, crushing my advance.

I notice dark clouds drifting over to cover the moon. I don't have much time; I redouble my efforts. A leaf. If I could get there I could use it as a springboard and move on to the grass.

A slight breeze and the leaf is out of sight.

Another human gets up and leaves. No more conversation, and the rain is coming. I have only one chance to do any damage.

As the last man gets up to leave, he braces his hand against the ground near one of my coals. I lash out at him with a spark. A sharp cry escapes his lips and he looks at me with contempt. Shaking his head, he stands up and walks into the distance as the rain begins to fall.

FIDDLESTICKS.

So, in all, that was amazing.
Probably the best work I have ever read here, and I've read a lot, so congrats.
Um, nothing technical to go over, except, you mean 'Life force' not 'lifeforce'
I love how you wrote. I could feel what the fire was thinking.
So congrats!!