Prompt: Picture prompt – you are here:
My first instinct was that I was in the photograph itself, namely as the campfire, instead of behind the viewfinder of the camera. Often I think about the fascinating grandeur of fire, imagining if it could teleport spontaneously – huge infernos displacing suddenly from somewhere inside a lighter 300 miles away. Fire is so powerful – from the way its domestication revolutionised our history, to the destruction it can cause. The essentials of balance. Intoxicating to stare at – perhaps the most accessible form of visual magic? I feel baffled that fire as a form, wherever it exists, is identical. Once it comes into fruition, fire is fire. The element is born and consumes the space. Perhaps that’s why it feels so ancient and precious to sit around the campfire, to stare into the flames. It is an eternal window into every place it has ever visited. My lack of indecision about where to place my focus when looking at the photograph is perhaps testament to the potency of fire. I felt instantly excited to become fire through my words and explore that space. Perhaps in the future I’d like to extend this concept into a short story.
A scan of ash: