Friday, March 23, 2007

Let me stand next to your Fire

Was it my birthday? Was it a prank played on me by unscrupulous workmates? No, I was just trying to cook a pizza. I'd only heated up the oven, opened the door, and a small puff of smoke escaped. Not enough to set off a fire alarm. Not back at home in Oz anyway, where I'd regularly filled the house with thick plumes without a beep. But it did beep, for a couple of minutes, then stopped. Cool. I heard another alarm going off, from the main residence upstairs... I guessed no-one was home. Then their phone started ringing, and ringing. Then it stopped. Relief. As I continued to prepare my pizza, I heard a siren in the distance. Not the Scarlett Johansson type, unfortuanately. Then the lights, flashing, red, blue, red, blue. Half a dozen fully kitted firemen (or strippers, I wasn't sure) made their way to my door, where I sheepishly explained I was just a poor cook.

No comments: