The woodstove was still warm, but the fire had fizzled. Intending to add paper and kindling, I reached in to grab the unburned chunk of wood – which of course on the underside was all glowing coals. Heard the sizzle, did that millisecond confused look, then yanked my hand out. Got off pretty light, really, a minor burn to the pad of the thumb. But honestly sometimes you wonder how you’re able to even successfully dress yourself. It reminded me of times when I was welding or using a cutting torch, and in the time it would take me to put down the stick and remove the shield, somehow I would forget that only seconds ago that piece of gray iron was molten orange and dripping. Grab it anyway. Same sizzle, same flat-ironed fingerprints, same little thumb-sucking jig.
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