“How many times am I expected to do this?” The exasperated Phoenix looked at the new fires erupting around her. Her insurance agent had canceled her coverage fires and fires ago. She knew from experience that she had to let the fires burn to ashes before rising, so she settled in and tapped her talons on the kitchen counter – waiting for it to catch fire and burn.

“This is getting old.”

She had given up the fire extinguisher because it wouldn’t allow her to rise. The Phoenix didn’t understand why, but her wings were useless while the flames burned. The rubble had to burn to ashes. Complete ash was required. Cold ash.

She bided her time and used a coal shovel to scrape and scoop. After the last fire, she’d been sloppy. There were piles of ash here and there. They were so deep, and she was too buried in ash to stretch her wings. She had to shovel her way out.

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