I should be working, but I find the mushroom cloud of smoke outside of my window slightly distracting. The above was snapped with my not-iPhone from my flat’s terrace at 1:30 a.m. when I first noticed that the sky got itself smokey eyes. (I’m entitled to treat a fire in a flippant tone when I’m sitting 800 metres away from it.)
In retrospect I recalled that I did hear sirens earlier, but since it’s Friday night and since I live next to a hospital, that’s a perfectly normal background noise. I’m mildly discomforted by the fact that I’m siren-deaf—I physically perceive them but I don’t mentally notice them. I’m also somewhat disappointed in my cat. Just before I saw there was a fire, the cat acted weird, hid in a closet and then came out for a cuddle. And I thought she was just happy to have me.
Two hours later, the local fire brigade tweeted that it’s a textile warehouse on fire—before that, there was no information anywhere to be found. It’s cool that they added photos and even a video, but I’d rather know if I should pack my emergency bag (and if my favourite supermarket next to the warehouse is burning too). A storm just started—the cat retired to the closet again, she’s scared of rain for no reasonable reason, especially when considering that she used to live outdoors.
I guess being almost a kilometre away and with the rain now, I should be safe enough, but I’ll probably stay up to see what’s up—or more to the point, what’s burning down. Should you be concerned about my morbid humour (but you should surely be used to it by now), let me state for the record that no casualties were reported and given that it’s a warehouse that caught fire in the middle of the night, casualties are unlikely. I’m not even freaking out by now (too much).