The spark That woke the fire

"I was somewhere outdoors, a clearing maybe, dusk coming on, and I was crouched over a little pile of sticks and dry leaves, not sure why it mattered so much that I get a fire going, only that it did. No matches that I remember, just rubbing two pieces of wood together like I'd done it a hundred times. A spark jumped almost right away, which surprised me, and I blew on it gently and the whole pile just woke up, orange climbing the twigs faster than it should. I actually yelped, laughing, that rush of having made something from nothing. I kept feeding it bigger sticks, grinning like an idiot. Someone was standing behind me, maybe my dad, I never turned to check, but I could feel them watching, and I wanted them to see it. The flames got taller and the sky got darker in a way that didn't match the time passing. Then I was holding a branch with the end glowing, walking toward something I couldn't see yet. Woke up with my palms warm, heart still racing."