Smoke

It's a little after six, and Lut has hit the snooze button again on his alarm. I look at the clock, sigh, and drag myself, unwillingly, out of bed. I'm tired, but at least my face doesn't hurt too much, yet. I make a note to take another painkiller anyway.

I go through the routine: bathroom, den to turn the computer on, then to the kitchen. I wash out a pot to cook more cream of wheat for breakfast, while the cats mill on the carpet of the breakfast nook, waiting for the their own breakfast. A smoke alarm is going off, somewhere in the building, and its ping-ping-ping registers on me faintly.

I pour a cup of water into the pot and set it on the stove.

The building's fire alarm goes off, a low, droning wang-wang-wang.
( Read more... )