A Spell for Moving Forward by Anna M. Wang

The Pieces

1 peaceful room with lockable door – easy to open, not heavy or on stiff hinges

1 metal bowl

2 handfuls of wood chips

1 large and impractically shaped, damp stick – must be foraged

1 book of matches from a hotel bar – must be given freely

Acquisition

Matches

The hotel bar is dimly lit, and smells like old carpet and cheap wine. The walls are a drab cream. The bartender wears a white shirt, black waistcoat, and red tie. You perch on a stool with one short leg that makes it wobble. You pull out a cigarette, hold it in front of you and sigh, then look to see if he’s turned to face you yet.

Stick

The grass in the park is flattened by slick mud. Rainwater softens everything. A dog a few metres away runs for a ball, skids, and careens into a deep puddle, standing to shake a brown mist around itself. The owner’s raincoat hood hangs forward framing their face, obscuring their periphery, blocking you out. The dog runs towards you, making a sharp turn when the owner calls it back. She sees you and smiles. You wave. She waves. She leaves. You kick at the mulch at the base of a tree as you pass, feeling something curved and solid under foot.

Wood Chips

The workshop is filled with jigsaw buzz and clattering panels. One of the workers asks what you’re after, handing you a hard hat, goggles, face mask, and two thick gloves. They point you to the back. You can feel the bare concrete – cool and smooth – through the rubber soles of your boots.

Bowl

His arm is around her shoulders. They’re looking at a pastel green stand mixer, on a shelf lined with an array of stand mixers in every domestic colour. She turns the pages of a pamphlet taken from the little tray on the shelf. Pasta roller, meat grinder, coconut desiccator. They take turns reading the optional attachments, debating which should go on the registry, which on the Christmas list, and which should be ignored altogether. You ask if you can squeeze past; you just need to get to the bottom shelf.

Room

You come home and turn on the heating. You hear water bubble and rush through the aching pipes. You feel the glow of mess, scattered in piles around the living room, the kitchen table, the laundry basket. You pull all the stacks from your bedroom to compile on the sofa. You hold the cold doorhandle which starts to warm in your hand, because your blood still runs hot. You swing the door to test its weight and hinges, before closing it quietly and sliding the lock.

Action

In the room, clear a place on the floor and set down the bowl.

Gather your woodchips and squeeze them as tightly as you can for six seconds.

Pour them in.

Light one of your matches and drop it over them.

This should cause the wood chips to start catching, but not fully light.

If flames start growing, stir with the stick.

When the fire goes out, light another match and repeat.

Continue until you have used up every match in the book.

Wait until the chips have cooled completely. Do not leave the bowl’s side.

Once cool, take the chips in your hand and cradle them for as long as needed.

When you’re done, return them to the bowl.

You are now free to go.

Illustration by Sky Costello-Ross

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Anna M. Wang (@annamwang) is a Bristol-based librarian and writer. Born in Malaysia, her family moved to the UK in 2005 when she was eleven years old. She has an MA in Creative and Life Writing from Goldsmiths, University of London, specialising in flash fiction. Her novella in flash, Prodigal (2023), is available from Ad Hoc fiction and on Amazon and came runner up in the Bath Flash Fiction Novella in Flash Award (2023).