6. You attempt to play mindgames with your fire, and therefore with yourself. (If I don’t even want you to stay alight, will you? By the time I have been upstairs and dressed myself, I really won’t mind either way. It’ll be a lovely surprise. I don’t even mind.)
8. Fire is difficult to photograph. Nevertheless, you will persist.
10. The whole world is a garden of burning. You see fallen twigs as gifts from God. You collect them in a wicker basket which you suggest to an onlooker is quaint, rather than (in their words) not big enough to be of much use. You also acquire a large, ugly bucket-like container which may or may not be called a trug. You are going to get this right and gather so much blimmin’ wood. One day you will wake up and it will be seasoned.