Fire Station – daily object Writing Sept 2nd
Sep 3rd, 2009 | By admin | Category: Daily WritingFolding glass doors reveal flashes of red in a hangar of dimness until the alarm fires off. Then they scurry like ants moving about donning yellow patched jackets and uniforms lit up like lighthouses. The portrait doors begin swinging upwards and red flashing warning lights spin through echoes and reverberations of light. Deisel fumes fill the air as engines roar to life and rev at hunting pace. The doors fully open the alarm howls a warning;get out of our way. Engines rev hard, trucks leap from their humble home along tight streets, fighting traffic lights and dawdling drivers, menacing tram tracks as they take the shortest route. Drivers duck their heads and weave as they hear the sirens over blaring car radios and half swilled bottles of oversweet coke and bitten bits of burger.
Now the fire station is a ghost yard, empty, with an invisible question mark hanging in the air – will they make in time? Upstairs in the quarters the cackle of the emergency services radio and a televsion gargling out mundane afternoon informercial programs is the only company. When the crews get back it’ll be good doses of international roast coffee and maybe a sponge cake bought from the bakers down the road. Lighter than air sponge that sops up the mouthfuls of tea and coffee that will be consumed after punishing hot showers, where layers of soot and grime from the devlish fire are worked away…..
