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A fictional short story. |
Fire? Red rimmed eyes looked back through the fogged mirror. Was it a look of anguish, stress, disgust, or maybe fear looking back at Michael? After 72 straight hours of hard unrelenting work, he knew he was exhausted, but there was something else lingering. The pain and torment he went through daily was second nature to him by now. The days leading up to the event had started out like so many others, get up, get dressed, eat a hearty breakfast then head out to Fire Station number 5. When he got there, Michael was jovial, excited even because he and his co-workers worked so well together. They knew that they could count on each other on and off the clock. Alarm blaring, they all knew what to do; rhythmically he went through the motion, like he had been doing for the past 20 years. Screams of "Lets Go" could be heard throughout the station, furious gathering of suits and other implementations needed for the task blurred his vision. This call was different though, as soon as they came to number 4 Dreamquest drive, he became apprehensive, distant, he somehow knew that what was going on inside would somehow impact him like a tornado leaving its destruction. He felt something familiar, but yet he had never been or heard of this address. He slowly went around the big Red engine number 12, and upon cresting the front of it, he dropped to his knees, begging, pleading for it to not to be true. This one call would forever change Michael mentally, emotionally and his attitude about everything in his life. |