The Window

The tendrils of smoke crept under the door, as I began to sense something was amiss. Remembering my Grade 2 fire safety class, I gently touched the doorknob with the back of my hand. It was hot. Very hot.
“She couldn’t have…” I quietly said to myself.
“She wouldn’t have…”
I had no time to dwell on inchoate thoughts. I needed to focus on survival. If I got out, I could figure things out later. If I didn’t, it didn’t matter.
Fear spread through my mind as I tried to take account of the situation. Dropping to the floor, I wormed my way toward the window. It was a tiny window, in a cheerless room. The room was empty now, and soon this house would be too. If I had enough time to remove the window frame, I would be able to squeeze out. I just needed to find a screwdriver.

This story has no comments.