A FIGHT AT THE FIRE BY CHRISTOPHER HEFFERNAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 83
Fire trucks were lined up on the street. Parked this way. Parked the other way. A whole bunch. Maybe a dozen. No sirens or anything. The red and white lights whirling around on the brick. A bunch of firemen were on the roof where a plume of smoke billowed out from a hole as though the whole building was a chimney. Someone would yell up a ladder or yell down from the roof. A loud whistle, a hand gesture. Radios crackled. Some windows on the top floor were broken and the flames reached for the night sky. Walking up to the fire I thought, well, everything’s gone.