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christopher@30seconds.org
Sometimes local college radio really hits home. The tree line raced by at 75mph. Past the Haw river. Past the '57 Mercedes, and today I almost stopped, but I had to get home.
Family.
And that is good. Now, sitting at my desk I smell lighter fluid as someone downstairs fires up the grill. It's just outside my window. I can picture the charcoal and flame. Feel the slick petroleum on the roof of my mouth like car exhaust and plastic, like the plastic soldiers I would burn as a child, watching their bodies melt into a thick, black, toxic trail of smoke that was (if caught) solid.
I remember being given control of the grill for the first time. A big deal. I didn't much care for it, but I loved lighting the fire. Still do. I love the fire.
A beautiful thing, fire. So many things at once, and so simple. Hot. Deadly. Dangerous. Beautiful.
But now I must go, I was really just checking the mail.
Rest assured I'll be back. And the grill will be warm and waiting...always.
goodnight 4.20.98
