So Thrilled For You

Prologue

The flames take the vulva pinata immediately. The crepe paper ripples in the magenta smoke, the sweets inside popping like corn kernels as they explode inside their wiry cage. The pinata falls onto the decking, and there’s a moment of stillness in me. The first time I’ve felt calm in so long, as I take in the view, thinking, Wow, I’ve never seen pink smoke before.

Soon the flames will claim the pile of duck-patterned wrapping paper, gorge on the coarse wool of the hand-knitted blankets and turn the fallen wall of peonies into a sweet, toxic, perfume.

I can tell already that everything is lost.

My life has already burned down metaphorically, so it makes sense I’ve now burned it down literally too. All I wanted to do was torch it all until there was nothing left but sooty soil, rich with nutrients to grow something new. But I never thought I’d actually do it . . .

I watch the smoke plume out of the canon, dancing as it eclipses the vista and spirals around in the heat, juxtaposed against the bluest sky. The fire around it ignites instantly, the smoke doubling, trebling, as flames catch and dance in the kindling.

The heat slaps my face and wakes me up.

I hear myself screaming at what I’ve done.

And I run towards the heat.