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You can’t stamp on coals. You can tamp them down, but you can’t turn them off, or turf them out. Carry them in the palm of your hand, if you will, but know that they’ll burn you. Hide them in the secret place inside your chest, pretend they don’t exist, but know they’ll re-alight at the merest touch, a scent or a piece of music.
He carried coals. He knew he did. As he leant and swayed with the tram on his daily commute, leaning into the muscle of his shoulder and enjoying the tension, he knew he carried them. As he neatly folded shirts, or aligned paper on his desk, he knew he carried them. A kiss on the cheek, a laugh with friends, sweeping the yard, a friendly wave in the carpark – he carried coals. They were warm and deep, comfortably buried beyond reach down past his spine. There was something weirdly soothing about their tender singeing, their raw complaint. They were something to be accustomed to.
But now and again. Now and again.
Now and again the coals would simmer and murmur to themselves and he’d rub his solar plexus thoughtfully. It would take a deep breath, a leaning over the sink, to help them settle, to rest again.
“Indigestion,” he’d say with a nod to his work colleague who glanced at him quizzically.
Breathing quietly, he’d still them. He’d close his eyes and imagine them dark and metallic, considering the impossibility of burning stone. The improbability of them. He could will them down, to a degree. He could cajole them into losing their heat and settling back into their familiar glow. He’d taught himself how to do this over time, a necessary teeth-grinding meditation.
Coals are dangerous. Without guidance, a strong hand and discipline, they can threaten to overtake you. They can blacken you, leave you raw and skin stripped. But they are an essential danger, as without them you lose your definition and your meaning. Living with coals becomes a delicate balance of keeping the fire charged, but never stoked.
He straightened his tie as he straightened his back. The burn resisted his early attempts to quieten, but he could feel the resistance loosening and his breathing slowing.
His tie was perfectly straight.
