Fire Pattern

Dreams
September 5th

Large houses, yards filled with plants, a waning night sky -- we lie on lawn chairs in the backyard looking up at the stars, the impending darkness -- Talking, chatting, laughing -- Then, the neighbor's house engulfed in flames, fire pouring out of the windows -- Oh no! I say, That house is on fire! -- He reassures me, It's one of those houses on the edge of the park, It'll be okay -- 

But it seems much closer than that -- Are you sure it's not closer? -- I get up from my seat to investigate, flames jumping from that house to ours, setting it instantly ablaze -- No!  No no no!

Spreading so rapidly, out of control, flames immediately in the kitchen, in the bedroom, spewing violently out the windows and creeping over the roof and around the porch -- 

NO NO NO!

Pulling my hair in anger, terror, fear -- How can it end this way?  How can Brightwood possibly end this way?

I run inside without thinking -- I need my phone, call the fire department -- I stand on the lawn and dial the numbers -- the woman's tone is calming, soothing -- she doesn't ask for my address -- That's weird, I think, They must have GPS --

We stand helplessly watching quiet fire swallow every memory I'd ever had, standing on the lawn, waiting, hoping it's not as bad as it looks -- Crying, yelling, feeling my insides shrink into oblivion, swallows me whole --