John got up in the middle of the night last night, and while he was up, I noticed in my half-asleep haze that I could see flashing blue and red lights.  I got up to look out the window just as John peeked through the blinds and shouted.


That’s the house across the street from us ON FIRE.  Its whole second story was in flames.  The flashing lights we noticed were from the fire engines parked on our street, whose sirens we somehow slept through.  It was 1:30am.


We watched from our kitchen.  The neighbors watched from our sidewalk.


The fire was out by 2am, and we went back to bed.  This morning, the poor house looks so sad.



As far as we know, no one was hurt.  No one was even there.  A new addition was being added to the second floor, and no one is living there during the construction.  The news (very short article) says a heater may have caused the fire.

I don’t need this kind of excitement.

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