flame stick

The boys looked scared and embarrassed. The ear of the statute lay at their feet. Why they had chosen to throw that brick is a question molded in the timeless folds of evolution. But what is done is done.

Racking their brains, the tall one reached into the depths of his school bag and pulled out a small tube of flame stick. Pure aluminium and oxygenated iron in something, with something in package labelled with a multicoloured diamond. Of course acquired, using slight of hand, from chem class. Their eyes lit up as thoughts of punishment escape mapped out through their minds.

Opening the cap and breaking the seal, the solution was carefully painted on the fractured area of both the ear and the General's head. The ear fitted nicely in place as the lubricated textures squeezed out the space between. The thought of what's going to hold it temporarily in place slowly overshadowed the boys' mental scenario. The height of the climb and the General's stance gave no surrounding holding leverage at all.

The second boy reached for his bag. Duct tape, crafty stuff for crafty people. They both smiled. And with the sound of sticky tearing, it was done.The ear was held tight and ready for ignition. Slowly another panic overtook the boys as a second frenzied search yielded no flaming solution.

But the boys were lucky that day. Across the courtyard was a girl wearing a wry smile. She one of last of the smokers and had been watching the whole time. She took a breathe and started to walk over. It was a really good day to do some metal work.