Tag: fire

1637: Fire

Fell asleep with the TV on last night and woke up an hour or two later in that slightly confused manner where you’re sure something’s wrong, but not quite sure what.

In this case, it took me a little while to determine what had woken me up and felt “off”. We had the fan on in the bedroom, so there was a certain degree of background noise anyway, but it seemed a little too loud. At first I thought it was the television, but after my vision cleared from the murk of sleep, I realised the television was off.

What was this loud noise? I got up to investigate. Andie was fast asleep so, taking care not to wake her up, I took a look out of the window and, upon opening the curtains — we have heavy blackout curtains in our bedroom — was almost blinded by the flashing blue lights of some sort of emergency vehicle.

After blinking a few times to get my sense of sight back, I could see through the glare of the lights that there were two fire engines in the street. They had floodlights trained on something over the road from our house, and there were people standing in the street.

I couldn’t quite work out what was going on and didn’t really want to go out and rubberneck, but it was clear that something fairly major had happened. My first thought was that a loud domestic argument Andie had heard earlier had escalated into something serious, but then I figured the police would be in attendance as well.

I couldn’t see what was going on, and by the relatively calm movements and conversation of the firemen it seemed like the most serious business had already concluded. Indeed, it wasn’t long before one of the two fire engines departed, but the other stayed for a while.

I eventually went back to sleep since nothing much seemed to be going on and our house didn’t appear to be in any particular danger.

This morning, though, it was abundantly clear what had happened. The block of flats over the road from us had a huge scorch mark up the side of it, and the block’s rubbish area — which, earlier in the day, had had a discarded bed and mattress in it — was now little more than a pile of ash.

We happened to run into one of our neighbours on the way out to the shop, who said that it seemed like someone had set the fire deliberately. She didn’t seem to have any real evidence for this save for the fact she’d seen it happen before elsewhere, but it seems like a plausible explanation.

So that’s that, really, and that’s the reason I’ve been extremely tired all day! Thankfully no-one appeared to be hurt and the building wasn’t damaged, either, so all is well. Nothing like a bit of drama to keep things interesting though, eh?

#oneaday, Day 268: Through the Night

I took my first steps into the night. Coming from the brightness I’d left behind me, the inky blackness looked impenetrable, a solid wall of darkness into which I’d vanish, never to be heard from ever again, were I to take one step further forward.

I took a step forward, and I did not vanish. The light was still behind me but my eyes were gradually adjusting, focusing, bringing that which was hidden into view again.

I took out the small torch and lit it, the small pool of light it cast spilling onto the floor, concentric circles of light and shadow. There’s always a way through even the blackest darkness if you have even just a little light.

I stepped forward again, and again, and began walking into the darkness. I didn’t know where my feet were taking me save into the black of the night. But I was moving forward, ever onward, like it was the thing to do. It was important. This was all that mattered right now. I walked, sweeping the dim light of the torch in front of me and watching ill-defined shapes pass as the light caught them and I walked past.

“Run,” whispered a voice in my ear, and I obeyed. I quickened my pace, still holding the torch, still sweeping it around, not knowing where I was headed or where I would end up. But I was running. The ground was hard under my feet, the regular thump-thump-thump of my steps mingling with the quickening of my heart in a chorus of drums that only I was witness to.

The darkness closed in around me, and the pool of light showed me that I was surrounded by shadows, but they did not feel threatening. Rather, they encased me, enclosed me, kept me safe. And still I ran, ever forward. The hard ground gave way beneath my feet to loose stones and finally soft mud. I felt the occasional splash of a puddle, but I was already past it, ever moving onwards. Still moving, still pushing forwards. But to where?

A scent filled my nostrils, a natural smell; the smell of the woods, of trees and leaves. It infused my being with a sense of peace. Out here there was nothing to fear, nothing to hide from, nothing to run from. But still I ran, with a sense of purpose that became ever more urgent.

In the distance, a pinpoint of light. As I drew closer, it flickered, its warm glow drawing my eyes away from the dark and towards what I now knew to be my destination. Closer still, and I could see the gentle flames; a source of comfort, warmth and safety, a place to rest a while.

As I entered the clearing I felt the warmth of the fire on my face and smelled the sweet smoke. And then she was there too, looking at me, smiling, those eyes gazing deep into my soul.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said, taking my hand.