There had been so many fires recently that it had become difficult to find firewood.
It was such an honour to be given the task of building the fire, now exhausted and full of splinters I had hit a low point. Still, the thought of the excitement of the lighting, the cheer from the crowd, the crackling and smell of the wood spurs me on as I pushed my wheelbarrow towards the forest.
I hear a hedgehog snuffling in the undergrowth, “you better keep away from the fire little fellow”, I catch myself muttering.
Pretty soon I have enough for my fire, the barrow creaked under its weight as I make my way back to the green.
As dusk falls I step back and take stock of my masterpiece, tall enough to tower above me, but wide enough to burn for hours.
I can’t wait for the witch burning tonight.