Yasmin and the Fire
When a thing smokes, it’s not always a bad thing, but sometimes you have to see things differently than others do. This time the smoke meant something big, and awesome — at least for Yasmin Canter. Yasmin was ecstatic, but she had to keep her face still. When an apartment building burns to the ground, and dozens of people are losing their homes, it’s generally bad form to stand outside looking excited. It could look suspicious.
Yasmin held her face firm and stoic through the mixed emotions. Sure, there was sadness that her apartment was on fire but she had gratitude because nothing important to her was in there burning. She was the only person standing in the fire hose mist, face lit by the towering flames, who was actually dressed for the situation. Damn, it’s good to know a prophet. She stood in tactical pants, and jacket, with her bright blue pony-tail poking out a black baseball cap. Around her a crowd of neighbors in pajamas, sweats, and slippers watching the flames pour from her bedroom window.
“Yas!” The cry came through the roar of the fire engine pumps and the flames coming out of nearly every window of the building fifty feet in front of her. Yasmine turned to see her mom running toward her through the crowd of gawkers crying out to her. The high school sophomore turned toward her mother, raised a hand and waived so she could be seen.
The fire looked so much more amazing than Walter had described to Yasmin. God! That man is a genius!
“Are you okay, Sweetie!?” Darlene Canter was beside herself and couldn’t stop crying. “I was so afraid you were hurt!” She kept squeezing Yasmin from the side and running her hand up and down her back and arm.
“I’m okay, mom.” Yasmin was nearly yelling to be heard over the din of the pumps and roar of the flames. “I had a feeling this morning, so I grabbed our computers and our bug-out bags. We’re good, mom.” There was no alarm in her voice and despite her yelling, the words calmed her mom’s anxiety.
“Where did you get all that ice in your veins? If I didn’t know better I would think you were twenty-five, not fifteen.”
“Mom. Stop it. I had a feeling. That’s all.” Yasmin didn’t sound very convincing, but her mom was usually happy to accept a white lie if it helped her keep her sense of normal intact. They stood in silence for another hour watching the building turn into a soaked pile of charred belongings.
#AtoZChallenge is almost over. Fret not. I’ll keep posting fun short stories, and if you want I can continue on some of these.
