Cast Iron and Blue Fire

The stove burners stood cold in the afternoon quiet. I climbed past the dials and reached the front right grate. Heavy cast iron crossbars, stained by grease and soot. Beneath them slept the ring of brass ports. I set my boots against the stainless frame and leaned my weight into the solid black control knob below. One firm counter-clockwise twist. A sharp click cracked through the silence. A snap of white spark jumped, blooming instantly into a fierce, hissing crown of blue flame. Intense radiant heat broke across my face and chest. I stepped square to the rim, planting my boots, and held my ground against the roaring furnace ring.