Flashback. The ancestors of the current greenenders cast huddle in a damp cave, scraping the last of the meat of antelope bones, and shivering in the cold of the oncoming winter. Then the shaman shouts, and the humanoids turn to look. He is waving some carefully dried sticks, and in a moment they blaze with light and heat, and ignite a pile of kindling. The tribe draw round awed. Winter is averted, man has triumphed over nature.
End flashback. I turned on the radiator in my bedroom.
Winter has begun[1].
[1] cryptonomicon reference
PS. I shouldn't really have used the 'fire' tag, but it felt left out, you know?
End flashback. I turned on the radiator in my bedroom.
Winter has begun[1].
[1] cryptonomicon reference
PS. I shouldn't really have used the 'fire' tag, but it felt left out, you know?