From: pel@maximo.enet.dec.com (Phillip E lujan)
Subject: A fireside story
Reply-To: pel@maximo.enet.dec.com (Phillip E lujan)
Organization: Digital Equipment Corporation
Date: Tue, 12 Jan 1993 20:06:18 GMT


[Gentle Reader - I am writing this account to impart to you the
words of one who is my friend, and who cannot converse with you
himself.  The reasons for this shall become clear shortly.  I thank
you on my friends behalf, in advance. - S.R., Esq., Editor]
=================================================================
With a crackle and the scent of smoke, I was born.

Strange words, you say?  Not when you consider that I am not of
your kind, Gentle Reader - I am one whose very essence is different
from yours.  While each of you may contain the spark of Divine
Fire that is your birthright, mine is the common fire used in your
households, as well as the fire burning at the heart of the sun.
I am power, raw and unfettered; what your kind used to call a
salamander, or fire elemental.  Before your kind existed, my
people were the rulers of this world, sending forth our energies
to shape the lands you now inhabit.

Why then do I send these words to you, Gentle Reader?  Perhaps I
wish you to know that we still exist; perhaps I wish merely to
reveal what I know of you and your kind.  But still, I tell these
words to one who believes, that he may tell them to you.

Hear now my story.
=================================================================
Unlike your kind, we are born of fire and smoke.  While we do not
require the continued presence of more than simple sunlight (or
even the light of your artifical flames, feeble though it is) to
exist, we must have fire and smoke to begin.  The sulfurous flame
of a match is enough to call one of us to life; so it was with me.

I became aware that I was inside of one of your dwellings, with
glass and metal panels between myself and the open air.  There
were a number of logs, which I fell to consuming, but this took
no more of my concentration than breathing does for you.  I took
it upon myself to examine the rest of my confinement: iron bars
holding the logs up, providing needed air; heavy brick walls, to
reflect my heat back into the dwelling and to contain me; and
above me, an opening to the sky.  I sent sparks up to examine the
outside:  cool night air, starlight, moonlight, trees.  Nowhere
did I see another of my kind.

So I turned my attention to the dwelling beyond the glass, and
there I saw two of your kind, seated upon some kind of low device.
They enacted a most curious ritual, which I shall relate to you.
=================================================================
[I have made changes in the following story, so as not to confuse
the readers of this account.  The viewpoint of my elemental friend
can be confusing in the extreme; I have known it long enough to
serve as a translator. - Ed.]

Two persons were seated on a low divan.  The first, a young man
with blonde hair and beard, broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted; clad
in a dark suit, white shirt, and a blue ascot.  The other party
was a young woman, with hair as red as brightly glowing embers,
pale skin (save the roses in her cheeks), and eyes of emerald hue.
She was dressed in a gown of sea-green taffeta, trimmed with ivory
lace at cuffs, neck, and skirt hem.

The two young folk sat near, but not too near, each other; they
seemed nervous, and from time to time would glance at the door of
the room.  Finally, the young man turned his regard fully upon the
young woman, who blushed prettily before turning her eyes down.
No words had yet been exchanged, when:

"Constance, I must speak with you," said the young man.

"Yes, Roderick?"

"I must know if you have spoken with your father about.."

"No, Roderick, don't say it.  You know he would never condone our
being together," said Constance.

"Constance, I cannot live without you.  If you will not speak to
him, then I shall have to ask him myself."

Constance gasped, one small hand to mouth.  "Roderick, no!  You
would be unemployed this very day if he were to find out!"

"Though it cost me my very life, I should still make the attempt,
dearest Constance.  Besides, I have planned to quit so that I may
join the Army; someone has to stop the Bosche, after all...  I
should very much like to know that you were here waiting for me
when I return from the war."  Throughout this speech, Roderick had
kept his gaze on the carpet.  He could not see the mingled horror
and pride on the pretty face of the young woman he loved.

He sighed.  "Well, then, I shall have to pray daily that you will
be waiting for me when I return.  Good bye, Constance.  I shall
always love you..."  He rose and turned towards the door.

The young lady quickly moved to block his path.  Trembling, she
attempted to speak, finally blurting out, "Roderick...  please...
you mustn't leave like this...  we'll go and speak to him
together...  I love you..."

Roderick gathered Constance in his arms, and slowly, tentatively,
kissed her...
=================================================================
After this, they left the area beyond the glass and passed beyond
my observations.  I, having burned up most of the fuel available,
thought that I would soon perish; but I did not know at that time
that sunlight could sustain me.  Indeed, with the depletion of my
fuel, I found myself free to wander on the winds of the sun, and
observe more of the curious rituals of your kind; perhaps I shall
relate more of my observations at a later date.

[Thus spake my friend, the elemental, on one occasion.  I have not
conversed with him since, yet I remain curious; what else has he
observed of humanity in his travels?  Might there be something
to be learned from his views of our kind?  Should he return, I
shall ask him to relate another tale, Gentle Reader, which I shall
then present to you. - I remain,
				Yr. Faithful and Devoted Servant,
					S. Roberts, Esq.]
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