Sparsely populated area.
Lots of vacant blocks.
Unkept, unmowed.
Long grass, dry in summer.
Sirens converging.
From block at the back,
Smoke billowing, lit orange by flames.
Grass fire.
Our hose reaches, flames increasing.
Fire brigade, fire hoses.
Flames flooded in seconds.
“It was an accident, Mum … honest.”
365 Short Memories 