Day 5

FLAME

My dad was a smoker. He had a very cool Zippo lighter much like this minus the aqua color, which would have been a little much for a straight, white, Republican from Texas. But hey, this is my art, so I get to do what I want.

So one afternoon when I was maybe 6 at the most, my uncle was at our house playing dominos with my dad. I didn't particularly like this uncle. He scared me and had a bit of a mean streak I was very wary of. He was also a big man with a big booming voice, so he was also physically intimidating.

On this particular afternoon, for reasons I can't wrap my mind around, this idiot uncle picked up my dad's Zippo, lit it, and chased me with it, saying in a big loud voice that he was going to set me on fire. I was terrified. My father did nothing. Finally my mother stopped the nonsense and took the lighter away. I remember him saying he was only fooling around. But I didn't really believe him. It just put a bigger wedge between us I'm not sure he was even aware of or cared about.