Every-one but me is drinking. We have candles and Mike starts to play
with the wax, letting it puddle and run. Unfortunately the tar on the
roof catches fire with startling speed. Everyone recoils. To me the
time seems long - the flames hanging in the air, the figures dancing
back and no-one acting. I pull up a blanket and quickly smother the
fire.
I remember once, as a child of perhaps 7, I was watching my grandmother iron. I don't quite know how she did it, but she pushed the iron off the board onto the floor and stood and looked at it in horror. I picked the iron up and put it back. The moment is quite alarming - when the person who is meant to look after you does not act - when you are the one who takes the responsibility - when you see the need and act first - and by so doing avert disaster. Personally I resent it.
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