The Burning

I keep the fire going

with sugar packets and gum wrappers

scrape the bottom of my purse

for goldfish crackers and crumpled tissues

a Starbucks napkin

a receipt for a swimsuit

I haven’t worn yet

I rip out the blank pages

from my spiral notebook

and feed them to the flames

silent people crowd the cold room

nodding at my notebook

too thin with straggling pages

they can’t help me

or don’t want to

but watch me struggle, scrabble for scraps

sticky lollipop sticks, ticket stubs

to that horrible show

that didn’t make me laugh

until there’s nothing left

nothing else to do but throw it in

my notebook

the words curling and darkening

fading into the satisfied smoke

For One Shot Wednesday