A barely noticeable ember was still smoldering in the warm ash. With great care and prudence, he spent his last strength so as not to completely fade away and suffocate in the gray ashes. It was time for dinner, and an armful of firewood and dry dead wood was thrown into the cooling stove. The completely extinguished coal came to life, and soon a tongue of flame rose among the firewood, on top of which a cast-iron pot with brew was suspended.
Pleased with the dry wood, the fire began to gradually flare up, expelling the stagnant air from the stove. Flirting with the logs and playfully jumping out from above and below, the fire became more and more intense.
Persistently breaking through the logs, the flames threw out whole handfuls of sparks with a crash. The dark shadows that filled the kitchen danced merrily and ran to the corners, and the mischievous fire snorted mischievously and joyfully, trying to break through the stove barrier. Soon the stove began to hum and began to sing in every key, now whistling vigorously, now whining pitifully. The kitchen has become warmer and more spacious.
Seeing that the wood was already entirely in his power, the fire became obstinate and impudent. He was bursting with arrogance and arrogance, and he was already cramped in the oven. The fire began to hiss and crackle threateningly and shower the entire firebox with sparks. Having directed the flames upward, he set out to reach the skies, but ended up... in the bottom of the pot, smoked with soot.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru