The Ember Stage

The dark cavern of the cold fireplace stood vacant, a hollow proscenium begging for nocturnal drama! Strutting across the rough flagstone hearth, I found an extinguished lump of black charcoal and a slender brass fire-match sleeve. Magnificent! Hauling the charred briquette upright with both gloved hands, I balanced it like an imposing dark pillar, then jammed the brass sleeve into a deep crevice of its sooty crust. With a theatrical cackle and a sweep of my wide purple coattails, I leaped squarely onto the brass perch! The soot crumbled with a satisfying crunch, tilting my impromptu pedestal just enough to cast an ominous, twisted shadow deep into the brick chimney. The nocturnal phantom has claimed his throne!