She was
upstairs preparing to make dinner for her husband.
She had
no way of knowing that two tables downstairs hadstarted to burn.
The source
of the fire was unclear. There was no reason. However, narrow ribbons
of fire spread along the carpet
until they reached the walls. Then, the
walls instantly ignited.
The flames
grew hot and angry. Furious shades of red and orange whipped upward
toward the ceiling.
Merciless daggers of
blazing yellow tore through the empty room. Building blocks, toys and furniture were being consumed by
tall, ravenous flames.
She was upstairs.
She was in the kitchen. She was
humming a tune from
her childhood. She was about to
preheat the oven. Then, she thought she
heard something.
"Bruce?" she called. "Is that you?"
There was no answer.
She went to the kitchen door. Again she called, "Bruce?"
Again there was no reply.
Then, she
saw it. Her eyes gawked in fear. She screamed at the terrifying sight.
The walls
were covered in wild, taunting flames.
Curtains were being reduced to ash.
The sofa was a raging inferno.
Smoke and fire were everywhere.
She was
in panic. She looked
around for an exit. The front door was
an obstacle in
flames. Huge pillars of fire engulfed the entire room.
Red, burning
shards lashed in all directions. Flames crackled loudly
as they ate everything in their path.
She glanced
behind her. The kitchen was already falling prey to
relentless fires.
Counters were burning.
Appliances were ablaze.
The pantry