A Short Story Of Us. The wood falls again and we restack the logs criss-cross while sprinkling more dead leaves. I click the lighter and after a few breathless moments it ignites and we have a flame. Over the next hour I add and build to our fire, while you prepare dinner. Chicken sizzles on the grate above the heat and I hear you chopping vegetables inside the cabin. Tacos were always one of my favorites and you make the best ones. As I sit outside waiting, I put my book down and look up into the trees. My most loved time of day has come; The sunlight streams through the leaves