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Car Burning by Allan Wayne
At 10am, this morning, I stepped out of my house, to go to work, and heard some shouts. At first, I thought they were kids, but the voices sounded hoarse. I saw a lot of smoke and grabbed my fire extinguisher and camera.
Fire Truck by Allan Wayne
Too hot for my extinguisher. I looked around and began taking photos. I saw people I had never seen, coming out of houses. A young woman said that the car had been parked in the street for a couple hours, and a tow truck had come. But it left to get the Firemen when the inferno started. The woman said she was studying for a final. A couple of her roommates came out. Who were these people?
Neighbors by Allan Wayne
The guy on the right owns the car. He left when the firemen came. The guy in the middle is taking cell phone pics. The kneeling man is calibrating his extinguisher, just in case. A woman fireman, or firewoman I guess, asked me who owned the car. I said I took his picture. Finally, the fire is going out.
Putting Out by Allan Wayne
People were chatting amiably. I wanted to stay, and meet the neighbors. But I was already late. And I had to meet an accountant at one pm. I knew I would probably never see these people again. They would soon be barricaded behind their computer or satellite dish, or Paris Hilton could be picking a friend. It is too bad it takes an catastrophic event of terrorist-appearing proportion to get people together. It used to just take a village. And now, while we are vegging-out online, some of our government gizmos are taking out a village or two. But I am meandering. Maybe it is the smoke.
Later that day, ten block from the accountant, my Dodge truck overheated. The radiator hose broke. I shortened it, and made it almost in time. Tomorrow will be different.
