The third time was no accident, even though it was the most plausible. Intentionally sitting on the fire hearth in my nightdress, with my toes directly in front of the roaring fire, lying in wait, I remained motionless every time a spark landed on my bare legs. It wasn’t until a larger knob of reddened coal landed on the hem of my nightdress that any of my family took notice of what I was doing. Even then, as my nightdress caught on fire and they quickly whipped it over my head, they didn’t question my motives, putting my carelessness down to a reckless child getting too close to the fire.
