Paul J Penton – Songwriter

Matchbox- Daily Object Writing- Sept 28

Somewhere along the way a piece of information was inserted, slotted into the command module of my brain, strike the match AWAY from your body – where, when or how I don’t remember, but it seems to make sense. Because – what if – and here I go on disaster psychology! – what if you are drawing the match toward you, feeling that pink bulging match head grinding, rasping its way across the terrain of the scratch-plate – what if- it just got to the point of ignition, the match head igniting into a fuse of yellow flame – what if- it snapped off and landed on your clothes or your skin- there you are with a burning white hot blazing sun absolutely gnawing away at your dermis – driving deeper – a yell would surely be emerging – a scream of agony and expletives – while you try to flick the still erupting ember and now it gets caught on a finger tip or a pad of your palm- Yowwwww! This now devolving orangey ball is setting off a whole bunch of fire stations down at nervous system central – plenty of fire engines are racing down those thin wires within – but they ain’t any water to douse this one when they get there- so it’s off to the sink as quickly as possible for a soothing jet of water, ringing out on stainless steel, while tongue biting and under breath cursing continue.

I think I’m glad that somewhere in the dark cupboard of memory this was Implanted – STRIKE AWAY from your body. Bit like holding a knife too isn’t it – Hold it with the blade down –lest one should trip and gore oneself accidentally.

Back to matches, useful things when you’re out camping. Good for lighting campfires and gas burners to heat up camp dinners that mingle with the flowery smell of the bush and undergrowth.

For some reason memory swings me back to childhood playing with matches under the family caravan………but that’s another story……