Not every day

By ppatrick

Sacrificial lamb

It was a fine dry evening, so we decided to start the bonfire that had been building up from tidying various bits of garden and field, and to add a few old treasures that had fallen victim to woodworm &c - including the wooden swords and shields that our sons had when they were small, and the rocking horse sheep that we bought for H in Brechfa in 1986 (a stuffed black fleece complete with fake staring eyes, on a beechwood base), kept for all these years but now eaten away by various small creatures. It made a fine blaze, burning up the years. This was the day before their shared birthday; one is coming home for the occasion, while the other is at a festival and will be here a few days later, to find his old toys in ashes. He won't mind...

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