In Which I Stoke the Fire

I don’t have a fireplace. I want a fireplace reallyreallyreallyreally badly. To me, fire is love.            It’s not easy to keep an ember burning—all that flame fanning and coal stirring—one might question it’s worth.
You know damn well the flame is going to burn out; it always does, and a lot of heat goes up the chimney. It’s not an efficient system. I've already had two fireplaces, and they were a lot of work and sometimes, a pain in the butt. At the end of the day, I toted a lot of ash. But I still want another one.
I’m going to pay close attention to the design this time. It must throw heat and warm bones. It must last. I’m willing to chop the wood, stack the pile, tote the ash.
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