Barn fire
Driving home from the airport today, I saw a barn on fire. I left the main road and drove toward the blaze. As I pulled into the driveway, a man steered a boy lugging a bucket of water away from the burning barn.
Stepping out of the car, I yelled, “Do you need any help?”
The man replied, “Nope. Fire department’s on its way.”
I had forgotten how powerful a structure fire can be. Even fifty yards away, I felt the heat, and the noise was incredible. Beams popped and the tin roof screamed and sang as it warped and melted. Smoke stung my eyes.
I nodded and asked again, “Anybody hurt? Everyone alright?”
The man looked at the fire and then back at me. He kept a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Everyone’s fine. Losing this barn ain’t gonna hurt nothing.”
I nodded slowly and waved, got back in the car, and drove off. Fifteen minutes later, as the road turned, I saw the rising smoke in my rear-view.
