WHILE THUMBING THROUGH A MESSAGE ON HIS cell phone, David Cameron bit into his freshly toasted bagel. The crisp edge gave way to warm chewy dough. The mug, making its way to David Cameron’s mouth, stopped. He rolled his eyes. It was a message from his boss, and it was alerting him to a crisis.
“Not a pre-coffee crisis.”
He licked a bit of cream cheese from the corner of his mouth and glanced at the clock on the stove. Thoughts of what he had yet to do, raced through his mind, as he calculated time. Still in sweats from his run on the treadmill and needing to shower, David decided to dump the coffee that he had just poured. He then set his bagel down and turned to let his barking dog in.
The morning sky, a brand-new blue, promising a clear sunny day, just twenty minutes ago, was now black. Billowing charcoal plumes filled the air. The vast cornfield that bordered his property was now angry flames licking at his lawn, like a red sea pounding against the shoreline. Curly, his two year old labradoodle, was barking furiously at the blaze for encroaching on his property.
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Disjointed Jottings by Robert Smith (A.K.A. TyCobbsTeeth) 