Smelling smoke as I wake to alarms.
Rolling out of bed onto the floor, pausing to grab my phone. Keeping low, making my way through and out of the increasingly smoke-filled house. My wife’s with her parents for the weekend, thank God for that. All that’s left is to call 911.
“Please,” I say, calmly as I can, “help me. My house is burning.”
The gentle, accented reply; “That‘s unfortunate, but I’m not sure what to do about it. I’m in India.”
I lost everything in the blaze. Still, the civic budget was balanced, and property taxes lowered...