The Blue Flame

The wizard drank the tea slowly.
A strange foreign brew for a strange man.
He was deep in contemplation for this was new to him.
This new event was worth the contemplating.
It was worth the noticing, even if he would never understand it.

How strange!

He looked into the flaming bowl and watched as the fire burned and smouldered.
The flames were…blue!
They burnt and warmed the spirit but it was a cool flame and otherworldly.
A strange change of colour that signified something.
The wizard took another sip of tea.

How strange!

Before, when the fires burnt, they were the reds of focussed fury
or the oranges and the yellows. The colours of the fires of man.

Ah!

That was it then.
He laughed as he realised how funny this was.

Suddenly, in that exact moment, the phone began to ring.
He looked about the room for the source of the ringing
scattering bowls of strange rocks, jars of potions,
spell books and grimoires.
Scrolls and half finished manuscripts were pushed aside as he searched,
and then finally, under the dragon scale bowl that he had acquired from an Icelandic witch,
he found his Samsung Galaxy 5.

Damn! He had missed the call.
Behind him, the flames were smouldering reds, oranges and yellows.

Copyright Faramond Frie © 2015

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