I stare at what we’ve done, the room’s on fire. Mariam runs outside, unlike her I don’t stop in the garden I move to save this place from being cinders. The grass beneath my feet’s wet, the cold wind blowing my pale hairs; I wish it’d blow in the garage. I move in the tree’s shadow. Beside its trunk is the motor. With a click, it begins to function. A transparent pipe extends from it. Time to find its other end. I’ll have a word with Sam for having a ridiculously long hose.
I jump over several rose bushes. There’s the other end, surrounded by mud. I pull it, it wets my shirt. I reach the garage Mariam comes out of it, arms laden with supplies, pajamas a little burnt. She pauses; I know I don’t look good covered in dirt. Together we hold the pipe between us and the water flows to the flames, leaving an ashy trail.
“Liss,” she says. Her voice isn’t reassuring, “I left the ring inside”
We have one job, decorating this place so Sam could propose to Ash. Now we’ve burnt his garage.
“Liss-“she continues. I’m in deep trouble
Mariam gives me thumbs 3 feet away then throws water at a half burning shelf, Sam’s a carpenter, there’s a lot of wood here. The smoke penetrates my mask. my gear is baking gloves, rain boots, swimming goggles, three former coke bottles now water-filled. I need to move fast, I’m flammable.
Orange and gold flames dance, onyx flakes are flying. It’s difficult to breathe. I move ahead. Fire blocks my path. Carefully I throw water on it knowing I need to conserve it. Flames hiss but vanish, I continue. The temperature doesn’t stop rising.
Amidst fire, half burning there’s a magenta box; I throw the remaining water on it. The rings safe –phew- at least it can’t get any worse. Burning stars fall from the ceiling, they block my path. The flame behind me rages. The only thing saving me is 3 liters of water, all for a stupid ring.
The second bottle that I fire doesn’t do much; I throw the remaining one while the flames are weakened. Not stopping I race outside; at least if I fall it’s for the name of love though if Ash rejects Sam I’ll personally murder him. There’s sunlight visible through the smoke, the exit feet away. I move faster. Water drowns me.
“Don’t ask me to do this again” I sputter.
Mariam doesn’t stop apologizing. There’s faint sizzling from the storm she unleashed. She hands me a glass of water, I gulp it. I stare at the damage we’ve inflicted. Sam’s shelf and books, cinders, the rugs, ashes. The seedlings that he was going to plant remains no more. There is a beep, Mariam pulls out her phone. We both view the time, 2:43 pm. The fire might be one thing but there are other horrors we must endure, the biggest, fixing this pace before six.
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