Plodding over from my half-erected tent, I asked a group of neighboring campers, “Got a light?”
A robust campfire projected deep oranges onto their faces. “Nah, sorry man,” they said.
I needed my cigarette, and I gazed doubtfully out at the darkening campground. An idea hit me. “What if…” I crouched and offered the end of the cigarette to the fire.
“Don’t burn yourself!” they said, laughing.
A flame flashed out at me, and I recoiled, finger hair singed clean off.
“Here,” one of them said, “what if you put it on this marshmallow stick and lit it that way?”