"Look, Frida. Aren't the flames lovely? They look like toungues, licking that marshmellow of yours!" the tall man said. He looked down to the young girl, Frida, whom of which he was addressing.
Frida smiled and nodded, though it was obvious she was trying to concentrate. She focused intently on the marshmellow she was roasting. It couldn't be too burnt, nor undercooked. It had to be perfection.
There was a woman, sitting in a wooden chair, watching from a distance. She wore a dainty little smile on a porclain doll's face as she watched her adopted daughter. The woman loved seeing Frida like this. She studied the girl's eyes, dancing, alight with fire. They looked like they could light the way through the dark wood nearby.
Frida rotated the marshmellow with supreme concentration. So far it was looking good, the marshmellow was just right from her point of view, though it was hard to tell yet.
She stood for a few moments and watched the fire lick and taste the marshmellow, and yet they didn't burn it.
"That should be good now, Frida. It looks wonderful," the tall man said with a smile. The seven year old withdrew her delectable treat from the fire and studied it close to her face.
The woman in the chair laughed quietly. The concentration and seriousness was quite comical.
Frida rotated the marshmellow around. Good, she thought. It was barely golden around the sides of the white marshmellow, and it appeared to be cooked perfectly. She took a deep breath and blew hard on the marshmellow. Then, she reached up and touched it. Crisp around the outside, and yet it felt melted on the inside. Frida nodded firmly and took the bite that she had been waiting for. Ahhhh.....It's goodness was unbelievable. Perfectly sweet and melty, but not too melty, just right. "How is it?" the woman asked. Frida nodded vigorously and gave her a thumbs-up. The tall man laughed. The little girl looked like a chipmunk, storing her food for the winter.
Frida swallowed loudly, and the tall man grasped the stick.
"Are you ready for another one?" he asked.
"Oh yes," Frida said in a musical little voice that was rarely heard. The child almost never spoke.
The woman gasped quietly, then smiled wide. The man beamed and stuck a marshmellow on the stick.
"Thank you," Frida said, once again in her beautiful little voice.
"You have a beautiful voice, Frida," The woman in the chair told the girl.
Frida beamed a glowing smile at the woman. The woman was slightly disappointed that Frida didn't speak again, but oh well. She spoke two times in one night, and she considered that an occomplishment.
And so Frida stuck the marshmellow into the fire and focused on the task at hand. She loved to roast marshmellows, she found it very fun. And there was a delicious reward at the end.