Terrified

I step out on to the balcony with Joe Connelly's Bringing Out The Dead and a can of diet coke in hand. The sky is hazy and the air is thick. For a moment I think it's because it's hot outside, but I inhale and realize what's wrong.

The smoke from the wildfire in North Carolina which is burning 40,000 acres is hanging heavy in the air. I look across the street and realize I can't see much. It's as if there is fog, only the smell permeates everything around it. I'm brought back to my first structure fire, as the smell surrounds me.

I close my eyes and think of the firefighters, the flames leaping high above the tree line. I hear the noise as trees buckle and fall, as fire eats away at the land. People are screaming orders through the dark skies punctuated by orange light.

I open my eyes and look inside through the glass door. Images of the wildfires in California flash across the TV screen in the living room and I sigh, even though I can't hear the commentary.

I take a deep breath and cough, my eyes burning from the smoke. Sirens sound all around me, bouncing off of the buildings and echoing as they lose volume. A child screams, and dogs bark. A car alarm goes off below me, and another starts a few blocks away.

I wrap my arms around myself and close my eyes tightly. I breathe slowly and close my book, tucking it under an arm. I come back inside and the smell lingers in my clothes. I shut the door and press my back against the glass.

The world is coming apart at the seams and I can't blame it. I slam my eyes shut again. As another siren carries on angrily, I lower the blinds. I am absolutely terrified.