If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. — Emily Dickinson
Fireproof
Good grief. I had just fallen asleep, after watching a bit of television while simultaneously reading The Cat's Table, when the fire alarm went off.
Now, I live 25 floors above ground, so, whenever the fire alarms begins its horrendous "beep, beep beep," I am immediately faced with a critical decision.
It's possible that Mrs Cuthbertson on the third floor has fallen asleep while her crock pot bubbled dry and created a small, but insignificant, cloud of smoke that set off the heat sensors in the building.
It's possible that Ol' Bill, as we fondly know him here, has slipped into one of his thought clouds and simply pulled an alarm, not because there is a real fire, but because his hemorrhoids are acting up, and he has mistaken the burning sensation of his discomfort for an inferno of sorts.
Or, it's possible that there really is a fire raging somewhere below me, and the building is set to collapse underneath me at any given moment.
The critical decision? Is there really a fire?
Now, some of you will say that it's always best to err on the side of caution. However, consider this. When the fire alarm goes off, the elevators automatically shut down, and it's 25 flights of stairs to safety. For some of you, that might be a no-brainer, and you would find your way down to the ground in no time at all. Me? Well, with a bum knee, it's more a choice of nightmares. I can take a chance that there is no fire and do nothing. Then, if there really is a fire, yes, I suppose that I will surely die by fire. Or, I can try to navigate down the stairs, with the likelihood that my knee will almost certainly give up the ghost in the stairwell, and that, by the 15th floor, I will likely find myself hurtling down, step-by-step, to my inevitable demise.
Last night, as the fire alarm continued to bleep hideously that death was imminent, I chose to make a cup of tea.
It was a good guess. There was no fire.
Good grief. I had just fallen asleep, after watching a bit of television while simultaneously reading The Cat's Table, when the fire alarm went off.
Now, I live 25 floors above ground, so, whenever the fire alarms begins its horrendous "beep, beep beep," I am immediately faced with a critical decision.
It's possible that Mrs Cuthbertson on the third floor has fallen asleep while her crock pot bubbled dry and created a small, but insignificant, cloud of smoke that set off the heat sensors in the building.
It's possible that Ol' Bill, as we fondly know him here, has slipped into one of his thought clouds and simply pulled an alarm, not because there is a real fire, but because his hemorrhoids are acting up, and he has mistaken the burning sensation of his discomfort for an inferno of sorts.
Or, it's possible that there really is a fire raging somewhere below me, and the building is set to collapse underneath me at any given moment.
The critical decision? Is there really a fire?
Now, some of you will say that it's always best to err on the side of caution. However, consider this. When the fire alarm goes off, the elevators automatically shut down, and it's 25 flights of stairs to safety. For some of you, that might be a no-brainer, and you would find your way down to the ground in no time at all. Me? Well, with a bum knee, it's more a choice of nightmares. I can take a chance that there is no fire and do nothing. Then, if there really is a fire, yes, I suppose that I will surely die by fire. Or, I can try to navigate down the stairs, with the likelihood that my knee will almost certainly give up the ghost in the stairwell, and that, by the 15th floor, I will likely find myself hurtling down, step-by-step, to my inevitable demise.
Last night, as the fire alarm continued to bleep hideously that death was imminent, I chose to make a cup of tea.
It was a good guess. There was no fire.
I'm very glad there was no fire and you are here this morning. :-)
ReplyDeleteThanks, it seems that I still have some good luck left ... ;o}
DeleteYikes! I'm sure glad there was no fire and your safe. I imagine the physical pain an havoc all those stairs would have on your knees. Ouch. The quote had me! That's a very profound one!
ReplyDeleteHaha, I'd need prosthetics by the time I turned the corner on the 15th floor ...
DeleteP.S. I read the book review. I'm wondering what happened that haunted them ? Hope it's a good read.
ReplyDeleteI haven't finished it yet ... it's a bit of a tough read. I guess because it's a little hard to relate to the boys on the ship ... such a different cultural setting ...
DeleteHmmm...I'm going to be controversial and ask why you chose to live 25 floors up, considering the idea that time has a way of gradually destroying all of us. At any rate, it's none of my business. Glad to hear there was no fire.
ReplyDeleteHaha ... I fell in love with the view ... it's a bit like living in Denver ...
DeleteI am not sure I am having deja vu or this is a repost...
ReplyDeleteit seems there are always sacrifices when you have a room with a view eh?
No, you just have a good memory ... ;o}
DeleteP.S. love the tune
ReplyDeleteMerci, madame ...
DeleteYou could go up to the roof and have the helicopter pick you up. Yes?
ReplyDeleteOne always needs an alternate exit strategy ...
Deleteis there anything....that u CANNOT blog about ?
ReplyDeleteHaha ... apparently not ...
Deletei was trying the other day...to find that blog u had once written about love...
ReplyDeleteguess u wont understand which one...u have written so many about love...:):)
Yes, so many ... maybe this one?
Deletehttp://fromkennedyjames.multiply.com/journal/item/298/Falling-In-Love-...-