I was halfway through frying eggs when I heard the screaming. Not words, just a kind of sharp panic that sliced through the morning like a blade. I dropped the spatula and looked out my front window—and there it was.
Smoke. Thick, black, fast.
I was halfway through frying eggs when I heard the screaming. Not words, just a kind of sharp panic that sliced through the morning like a blade. I dropped the spatula and looked out my front window—and there it was.
Smoke. Thick, black, fast.