Any thoughts he had of running in to grab a few things were dashed by the fire’s progression. The red sea had now crashed over the shoreline and was washing against the back of his house.
As he stood across the street from his place, David realized this was the last time he would be looking at the home he grew up in. In his sock feet, holding his dog in his arms, he watched helplessly while the flames moved methodically from the back of the house to the side. They were nibbling away at the bottom edge of the siding the same way he ate the edge off of his Oreos. He noticed an orange glow inside the main floor windows and then the drapes disappeared unceremoniously. The fire drew his attention back to the side of the house as it became impatient with nibbling and decided to devour the rest of the side at once. The flames quickly ate their way up through the soffit and into the attic. Moments later the whole house erupted into a fireball. Some structural shifting made the dog flinch in his arms and then a window shattered, causing Curly to jump.
David felt like he just ran ten miles in full combat gear, carrying a fifty pound rucksack. He felt gravity pulling down on him–there was a vice compressing his chest, and spots were jumping around in front of his eyes.
David shook his head, blinked his eyes, and focused on the new noise occupying the airwaves.
“I NEED EVERYONE TO CLEAR THE AREA NOW! WE ARE CLEARING A FIVE BLOCK RADIUS IMMEDIATELY!”
The blaring megaphone voice, although startling, brought lucidity. People–most of them his neighbors, were all moving past him and towards the corner of the block.
“David! are you okay? C’mon, we’ve got to go.” Andy Murphy said, as he walked past with a box of granola bars in one hand and a carton of orange juice in the other.
As he fell into formation behind the large exodus, David realized his boss was still waiting for a response.
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Disjointed Jottings by Robert Smith (A.K.A. TyCobbsTeeth) 