He poked at the fire, trying to make it brighter to push back the overwhelming darkness. Sparks danced into the air, but his feeble attempts failed to make that part of the world any more luminous. Pissed off he unzipped and proceeded to urinate on the flames, drowning them and allowing the darkness to flood into the space.
He laughed as it so epitomized how his life treated him.
He decided to wander back to his cabin. Being fire blinded, he tripped on a branch, falling flat on his face. “Nope, that’s my life,” he mumbled in the fallen leaves.
Image: miquon.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/nighttime-campfire_e1vx-fat__F0000.png
Never Short On Words 