There’s something special about a campfire

There’s something special about a campfire—the crackle of the wood, the soft glow of the embers, the smell of smoke in your hoodie for days afterward. But this night, Bob’s usual fireside ritual had an unexpected guest: Thing. Yes, that Thing—from the Addams Family. A severed hand with surprising agility and a knack for stealing the poker stick.

Bob had just got the fire going at the campsite, poking at it with a trusty branch like a pioneer reenactment. Flames licked the split logs and coals glowed a fierce red under the grate. That’s when he heard a light tap tap tap behind him. Turning around, there it was—Thing, calmly crawling over from the edge of the fire pit like it was the most natural thing in the world.

No explanation. No fanfare. Just a hand, here to hang out.

Bob didn’t even flinch. He simply scooted over on the log bench and nodded toward the fire. Thing, apparently fluent in body language, settled beside him. The two sat in silence for a while, watching the fire shift from dancing flames to those glowing red coals that hypnotize you late at night. The occasional blue flicker of flame cast an eerie but oddly comforting glow.

Every now and then, Thing would poke at the fire with a stick, showing a surprising talent for tending the coals. Bob swore it even arranged a triangle of wood perfectly to keep the airflow just right. Honestly, better technique than most of the campers he’s met.

Moral of the story: never question who shows up to your campfire.