Miriam looked at Katerina’s little hand as the skin still sizzled. It wasn’t the fact that her little girl had gotten burned that had her so upset: Katerina had not shed a single tear. In fact, she was smiling. “Now tell mummy what happened,” she cooed.
Katerina looked up at her with happy eyes. “I was playing by the window with my dolly and she got cold.”
“Yes?” Miriam coaxed.
Katerina looked with wonder at her own wrinkled hand, now a much more interesting shade than its counterpart. “And I went by the fire and put my hand up there.” She would say no more.
Miriam walked over to the stove and saw that it was ice cold. She had given Katerina cold porridge with tea and had not had a fire going since dinner the night before, and that a small one. She reached in and stirred the ashes; there was not a single ember to be found.
“Not there, mummy,” Katerina suddenly spoke up.
Miriam figured she was a bit stunned from her experience and decided to play along. “Where, then my darling?” she asked innocently.
Katerina wandered over to a dark corner of the room and pointed. “There.”
Miriam frowned. “But Katerina, there’s no fire there.”
The little girl crossed her arms. “Yes there is, mummy. He shows up when I play.”
He? Miriam puzzled. “Well, why did he burn you if he shows up when you play? He must be a bad fire.”
Katerina’s bottom lip began to tremble. “Don’t say that, mummy! He’s a friendly fire; I think I just petted him wrong.”
I’m a bit late on this one, but hopefully my 268-word silliness made up for it. Click below to read this week’s prompts from InMon.