Melbourne had finally gotten like that; misty and cold. He walked silen
tly, alone with his thoughts.
As he neared the yeshiva strange sounds began filling the dark air.
Singing
It was faint, but he could pick up a familiar tune. As he approached the sound filled the street more and more.
The sound of brothers in unison.
He knew it. He quickened his pace, Anticipating what awaited him at his destination. He finally found himself standing at the front gate. He felt it before he saw it.
The heat.
A bonfire
He smiled as he punched in the code for the front gate. The entire garden glowed yellow. The palm trees took on an orange story-book image, of pirates and islands with buried treasure. The orange tinted fronds swayed in the air turned tropical by the fire, causing a soft rustling noise under the singing.
He cut through the grass, intensity of the heat growing as he neared the flame. He was no longer in Australia. He was on a lost island on the pacific, just disembarked from his pirate ship to
retrieve their buried treasure. He emerged onto the scene from behind the palm trees, a pirate stumbling across a native bonfire on the lost island, the whole place aglow.
He had to turn away from the heat of the fire. It was hurting his face. He looped around to where all his friends were swaying arm-in-arm in song.
It was warm
Not because of the fire
Not because of glow on everyone's face
But because everyone was just plain warm
He joined them for a bit in their singing as they watched the fire burn away into the cold night. One of the shluchim even put on a little show; juggling fire for the crowd.
He felt aglow inside as well as out
He looked all around this treasure island
Oh how he'd miss it
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