She fell asleep with the fire dying. She was lying on pillows on the floor. Through the

chimney she heard sounds magnified. Through the chimney she heard the barred owls up

in the oaks: “Who cooks for you, who cooks for all.” Through the chimney she heard the

magnification of cars and their thumping hip hop on Avenue B. When she was falling

asleep to random embers popping on the grate, she was thinking it was nice to hear the sky

reverberate through the chimney. Since the flue was still open in the morning, when the

birds flocked to the camphor tree over the brick house and dropped camphor berries all

over the roof and the yard, they also dropped camphor berries down into the site of last

night’s fire. When the girl was not quite awake yet, she was thinking the berries were the

embers.