The Burning of Bad Leroy Brown
The heat was impressive, a near 1,700 degrees. He pushed Leroy into the oven. Before Leroy was halfway in, his feet burst into flames. Black smoke from the cardboard rose up the flue. Three more shoves and Leroy was in, his entire body now consumed with flames.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?