Fire: 08.16.2013

The alarm. It was so loud. The elevator was deactivated so he headed for the stairs with a small crowd. All scrambling to find refuge on the ground, far away from the smoke and the fire and the eighth floor. Some of them pushing, some of them whimpering and grunting. It was flashes of memory looking back. He couldn’t decide if this was real or if the jet lag from his mini getaway was getting to him.

The alarm.....the group of escapees was growing in number each time they passed a level on the poorly lit back stair case.  Babies were crying. Some people were yelling for help. One guy had a white Persian cat....Its hard to tell which of the two were more traumatized, the freaked out cat or the scratched to hell guy.  The cadence of group’s feet became a cohesive beat as they all had the same goal in mind. To get to safety. To get out of the fiercely burning building.

He could hear the emergency responder’s sirens, and shouting from the outside of the building with each window he passed.  The shock of the event left his tongue quieted and his eyes wide. Fight or flight. Nature versus nurture. Whatever the hell it was....it kept him in a state of shock. The alarm. The time was not passing by. Time was not moving. Why was it taking so long to get to the bottom? The smoke was filling the stairwell. The smoke was filling his lungs. His heavy panting from running and confusion allowing gulps of smoke to fill his every air sac.

Finally, a burst of a door and people were pouring out of the burning apartment building like water from a pitcher. Just flowing out like the water they all desperately needed. His eyes reached up to the sky to confirm that his confinement was over and that he had reached refuge under the sun in the the oxygenated wind currents created by the tall buildings.

Whether it was adrenaline overdose, excessive smoke inhalation or just plain old exhaustion. He passed out......”The alarms” he thought as consciousness left him.....”The alarms”.

And as soon as he burst through the door was about as quick as she was on him. The crowds. The smoke. The sirens. The fire. The alarms. A perfect storm. A calculated perfect storm.

She scooped him up under his arm, hauled his arm pit over her head and headed across the street. With much haste she made way for the elevator, key in hand. Her world, his world were moving so fast. The chaos and confusion that surrounded them stopped as soon as the elevator door slid closed. She buckled her knees hoping that his weight would hold on her for a little longer. And in that 24 second elevator ride she was brought back to that brief moment back in her school days. Back to that toilet seat, back to the spoon, back to her first rush of lust and love and obsession. The smell of him intoxicating, the curve of his lips where they met in the corners, the mess of hair falling in perfect cascades over his strong brows....Sucking in each detail and cataloging them in to her memory files.

….......

The alarms......where were the alarms?  Where was outside? He looked around and could tell that he had just exchanged one crisis for another. His feet and arms were bound.....and he could see her... She was hunched over at a desk pulling her own flesh from her forearm with a wild look he had only seen in movies.....He let out a breath a little too loud.

Her head jerked over in his direction. She smiled over to him. She smiled over to him in the way you smile at someone you‘ve known for a long time. A comfortable smile. “Good morning sweetheart..........”