The arson

He was always fascinated by fire. He learnt how to light a matchstick when he was just about three. He drew the matchbox shelf, picked up a matchstick stick and gently scraped on the side of the box with the bulb side of the stick that had the chemicals. Playing with fire was banned.  He skipped a heart beat as the sparks sparkled at the top of the stick. He was afraid but felt accomplished. 

There were stacks of dried coconut palm leaves, criss crossed to make thatched roof, grandma’s side hustle. There he was with his match stick. A small spark, lit up in flames! He didn’t worry about the beating he would get later! He was just fascinated and bathed in the heat that emitted from the inferno. 

He lights cigarettes now. He does not use the fancy lighters filled with gas. He still uses his matchbox and keeps one close to his heart.