About half an hour ago, around 3:30am, I noticed my neighbor’s house was on fire.

Naturally, rather than call 9-1-1, since a firetruck was already there, I got out my camera and started snapping pictures. That one was the best of the four that I was able to take, and by then the fire had died down quite a bit. It was shocking, to say the least. I’d heard what I assumed was gun fire about a half an hour before I noticed the flames. They leaped out from the burning house at me through the west-end window of my house. The glow of the fires reached the windows here. It seemed like the sun was coming up. My friend who is staying here (not Matt) woke up and caught me watching and photographing the flames.

“What’s going on?”
“Oh, nothing much. The neighbor’s house is burning down. Wanna come watch?”
“No. Oh… OHMYGOD!!! Are we safe here???!!!”
“We’re fine. It’s smaller than it was. Go back to sleep.”
“NO! I think we should go somewhere else!”
“There’s no where else to go. Except back to sleep.”
“What if this place catches on fire??”
“Don’t worry. There’s so much asbestos in the walls, and lead paint, we’re safe from anything short of the apocalypse.”
“That’s real assuring…”

The firetrucks are still there. I hope no one was hurt. I hope this wasn’t an arson case. But I have a bad feeling about this.