| Writing Fiction posted January 7, 2024 |
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A Rumbling fire came from nowhere, swept right thou Paradise
Fire Storm in Paradise
by Andrepage54
The firestorm is coming over the ridge; the TV is on in the family room. I am still rubbing the sleep from my eyes. This woke me up from a nap I took after lunch. Then I heard a loudspeaker, “Everyone must evacuate”. Where is this coming from? I am thinking out loud—the Sheriff speeding by. I barely make out what he said. Look at my porch. Thick smoke is all I see, I think to myself. This place of love and happiness is now going straight to hell, I do not know what to grab, but I must find my keys. My dog is with my girlfriend at the lake. Great, my Truck keys are in my hand. Thank God. I cannot do shit about the 57 Cameo, The 63 Stingray, and the 1930 T bucket. My paycheck is coming in the morning, and I will join her then. Now it looks like no Bag and no Money, and I know she wouldn’t mind if I was not playing the hero and going to stay to save my precious toys. I think I have been lucky in the past. It might just miss my street. “I hope”. Putting them in the shop won’t help either. I can't believe this; the morning was so beautiful. Now the earth is shaking; a faint rumble is heard, but it’s getting louder. I need to get out of here.
I still really don’t know what is going on. I've only seen wildfires before on TV; I did not expect this at my front door in a million years. The smoke is thick, and I start to cough slightly, holding my breath, walking faster, barely seeing my truck right ahead of me. I think for one second, “What about the other three? “I can’t do anything about it now. Jump in and throw it into gear. The streets are full of people and their families going in different directions. “The massive orange glow, the rumble is louder than my engine winding out in second gear.
Fire straight ahead of me at a quarter to three. It’s not supposed to be dark yet; I cannot see my hand before me. I must turn around and “find my way out of this place.” That’s what the song on the radio just said!
People are desperate to drive on the wrong side of the road and in the wrong direction. People coming straight at me swing out wide. They almost hit the right side. The dark smoke surrounds us; the direction is unknown, and I find breathing so hard. There was a loud bang, the light was gone, life was strange, and this was not a dream.
The next day's story read like this. The fire was traveling at a speed of 153 Miles per hour. With the speed of a tornado, a town called Paradise and seventy-three souls left in a second. The eerie sight of the cars in a straight line, the people still in their seats, but there is no glass, no rubber, just the tin metal. They never saw it, or they did but could do nothing about it.
A whole City of PARADISE is gone. God take good care of those souls taken from us too early.
The firestorm is coming over the ridge; the TV is on in the family room. I am still rubbing the sleep from my eyes. This woke me up from a nap I took after lunch. Then I heard a loudspeaker, “Everyone must evacuate”. Where is this coming from? I am thinking out loud—the Sheriff speeding by. I barely make out what he said. Look at my porch. Thick smoke is all I see, I think to myself. This place of love and happiness is now going straight to hell, I do not know what to grab, but I must find my keys. My dog is with my girlfriend at the lake. Great, my Truck keys are in my hand. Thank God. I cannot do shit about the 57 Cameo, The 63 Stingray, and the 1930 T bucket. My paycheck is coming in the morning, and I will join her then. Now it looks like no Bag and no Money, and I know she wouldn’t mind if I was not playing the hero and going to stay to save my precious toys. I think I have been lucky in the past. It might just miss my street. “I hope”. Putting them in the shop won’t help either. I can't believe this; the morning was so beautiful. Now the earth is shaking; a faint rumble is heard, but it’s getting louder. I need to get out of here.
I still really don’t know what is going on. I've only seen wildfires before on TV; I did not expect this at my front door in a million years. The smoke is thick, and I start to cough slightly, holding my breath, walking faster, barely seeing my truck right ahead of me. I think for one second, “What about the other three? “I can’t do anything about it now. Jump in and throw it into gear. The streets are full of people and their families going in different directions. “The massive orange glow, the rumble is louder than my engine winding out in second gear.
Fire straight ahead of me at a quarter to three. It’s not supposed to be dark yet; I cannot see my hand before me. I must turn around and “find my way out of this place.” That’s what the song on the radio just said!
People are desperate to drive on the wrong side of the road and in the wrong direction. People coming straight at me swing out wide. They almost hit the right side. The dark smoke surrounds us; the direction is unknown, and I find breathing so hard. There was a loud bang, the light was gone, life was strange, and this was not a dream.
The next day's story read like this. The fire was traveling at a speed of 153 Miles per hour. With the speed of a tornado, a town called Paradise and seventy-three souls left in a second. The eerie sight of the cars in a straight line, the people still in their seats, but there is no glass, no rubber, just the tin metal. They never saw it, or they did but could do nothing about it.
A whole City of PARADISE is gone. God take good care of those souls taken from us too early.
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