A Fire Alarm Resounds.
Which is what happened last night at 10:20. It sounded as if the last trump might be in progress.
I called 911. I was asked if I smelled smoke or saw fire (after the dispatcher told me who I was, and where I lived). I said ‘no’, just the building’s fire alarm going off.
I was told I better get out.
Which I did, after I checked the building (laundry room especially). On the second floor I did see smoke – smelled like fish. Buddy at the end of my hall was also there. I asked if he was going to the third floor. He said ‘yes’, so I did decide to leave.
I propped open the front door and waited outside with the very few other tenants who also left.
First fire truck within three minutes.
Two others in the next five minutes.
I told the firefighters of smoke on the second floor.
And that was pretty well it.
Grease fire.
We tenants milled around for twenty minutes. It was a pleasant night out.
A firefighter turned off the alarm.
Moderate smell of smoke on my floor.
The other two fire trucks stayed up on the intersection of the two streets.
All returned to normal.
I don’t need to go anywhere for Friday night excitement.
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