From "Not Forgotten" by Bonnie Taylor

Lilly sat alone, listening to the nothingness and staring at the flickering candle on the table. The fire cracked and snapped and she turned her attention there. She stared in to the flames, humming away like a secret machine systematically eating at the logs and crumbling them in to bright red bricks below.  Was there something else in there? Lilly could swear she saw something else in the fire. She tilted her head and looked from another angle. The apparition was getting larger and closer. Lilly slid from the couch and crawled toward the fire. There seemed to be something in there moving independently from the flame. As she reached the hearth the fire cracked and she turned away not wanting to get embers in her eyes or face. When she turned back to the fire, it was there. It was staring at her as large as life. She could see every freckle, every little laugh line. It was her mothers’ face in the fire. As quickly as Lilly made the connection in her mind, the face disappeared. Lilly shook her head and sighed, “Imagination really sucks!”