mug raze the coffee mug was white. there was an illustration on the front. two bears stood together in the woods. they watched a man who sat on the ground with his back against a tree, oblivious to the predators who made this place their home. "a human," the first bear said. "should we eat him now?" "no," said the second bear. "let's wait for him to destroy himself." for years my dad kept the mug in his office. when he started working from home, it came with him. once in a while someone would drink out of it. most of the time it sat in a kitchen cupboard. i started staying home on the weekends and smoking pot in my room instead of going downtown and drinking. i didn't have an ashtray. he gave me the bear mug and said, "here. use this." it was perfect until i ashed in it one night and knocked the cherry off the end of the joint i was smoking without knowing it. another thing i didn't notice was the kleenex that fell into the mug before that. i bagged the roach and went to the bathroom. i left the mug on my bed. when i came back, it was spitting angry flames that were twice its height. it sounded like a bonfire. it smelled like something else. i set my beard on fire once when i tried to smoke a disaster of a joint i rolled myself on the side porch. i lit a match and the wind took the flame and threw it back in my face. this was something different. i'd never seen fire dance in front of me inches away from the pillow that held my head while i slept. i doused it with the water i was drinking and watched orange ignited gas turn to inedible soup the colour of night. it crossed my mind that maybe i was the person those bears were talking about. but i didn't think fire would be the thing that ended me. 211210 ... kerry this was such a pleasure to read. 211211 ... raze you make me smile, kerry. i'm so glad you're here. 211212 what's it to you? who go blather from