After I wrote my first story (see page 3, this thread) I got to thinkin', how did that statue get buried for a thousand years, so that Dusty could find it????
So I wrote this story, my second and last entry........
Never say "Never"
He stopped. “It’s not safe, sir “ he said, then continued poking the ashes looking for hot spots.
He must have read my mind. I’d been thinking about going in to search for our jewelry, china, photos and other valuables. The wife, kids, even the cats were okay. Thankfully, nobody had been home.
“Do you think the fire might flare up again?” I asked.
“Not really.” he replied. “We’re concerned she might collapse.”
He was right. The roof was gone, along with much of the second floor. The main floor seemed stable, except the east wall. Parts were burned away, exposing the basement stairs and what was once the back entry.
An approaching vehicle distracted me. I turned to see Jennifer park nearby, get out and walk toward me.
“How are they?” I asked.
“Finally sleeping.” she answered. “Mom said not to worry, she can watch them as long as we need. What’s the news here?”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her what the fireman had said.
“It’s too early to tell.” I lied.
Insurance will cover losses, but money can’t replace everything. Among other things, we had an extensive movie memorabilia collection, signed art prints, prop replicas and limited edition pieces. Last winter, we’d gutted the basement to build a beautiful home theatre including a collection display area along one wall.
Just yesterday, our newest piece had been delivered. I’d barely had time to unpack and admire it when Jen yelled downstairs for me to hurry. She’d also made it abundantly clear that everyone was starving and her Mom wouldn’t wait to serve dinner. In my haste to obey, I’d tripped on the shipping box and skinned my shin on the stairs.
It’s still tender today.
“You look terrible, and you reek of sweat and smoke,” she said plugging her nose.
“I love you too,” I grinned.
I expected a smile in return. Instead, she looked puzzled.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, but before she could answer, I also realized.
Something was different. The air was still. There was no sound.
Then, without warning, a deafening crack echoed throughout the neighborhood, followed by a splintered groan.
Instinctively, we jumped to the nearest cover, behind the minivan. Peeking through the windows, we watched in amazement as the remains of our home crashed in on itself. A cloud of ashes, soot and debris was thrown skyward, then fell all around us. A large something clipped my forehead before landing at our feet. I glanced at Jen. She was staring downward. I followed her eyes to the object that had hit me, a charred chunk of printed cardboard.
It read. “Sideshow Collectibles, Sauron, 1138/9500.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
“It’s all gone, forever.” was all she said.
We shared our sorrow in a long, silent embrace.
She’s probably right. For safety’s sake, they’ll just bulldoze everything into the basement and cover it with dirt. Anything that might be worth salvaging will never see daylight, again.
So I wrote this story, my second and last entry........
Never say "Never"
He stopped. “It’s not safe, sir “ he said, then continued poking the ashes looking for hot spots.
He must have read my mind. I’d been thinking about going in to search for our jewelry, china, photos and other valuables. The wife, kids, even the cats were okay. Thankfully, nobody had been home.
“Do you think the fire might flare up again?” I asked.
“Not really.” he replied. “We’re concerned she might collapse.”
He was right. The roof was gone, along with much of the second floor. The main floor seemed stable, except the east wall. Parts were burned away, exposing the basement stairs and what was once the back entry.
An approaching vehicle distracted me. I turned to see Jennifer park nearby, get out and walk toward me.
“How are they?” I asked.
“Finally sleeping.” she answered. “Mom said not to worry, she can watch them as long as we need. What’s the news here?”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her what the fireman had said.
“It’s too early to tell.” I lied.
Insurance will cover losses, but money can’t replace everything. Among other things, we had an extensive movie memorabilia collection, signed art prints, prop replicas and limited edition pieces. Last winter, we’d gutted the basement to build a beautiful home theatre including a collection display area along one wall.
Just yesterday, our newest piece had been delivered. I’d barely had time to unpack and admire it when Jen yelled downstairs for me to hurry. She’d also made it abundantly clear that everyone was starving and her Mom wouldn’t wait to serve dinner. In my haste to obey, I’d tripped on the shipping box and skinned my shin on the stairs.
It’s still tender today.
“You look terrible, and you reek of sweat and smoke,” she said plugging her nose.
“I love you too,” I grinned.
I expected a smile in return. Instead, she looked puzzled.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, but before she could answer, I also realized.
Something was different. The air was still. There was no sound.
Then, without warning, a deafening crack echoed throughout the neighborhood, followed by a splintered groan.
Instinctively, we jumped to the nearest cover, behind the minivan. Peeking through the windows, we watched in amazement as the remains of our home crashed in on itself. A cloud of ashes, soot and debris was thrown skyward, then fell all around us. A large something clipped my forehead before landing at our feet. I glanced at Jen. She was staring downward. I followed her eyes to the object that had hit me, a charred chunk of printed cardboard.
It read. “Sideshow Collectibles, Sauron, 1138/9500.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
“It’s all gone, forever.” was all she said.
We shared our sorrow in a long, silent embrace.
She’s probably right. For safety’s sake, they’ll just bulldoze everything into the basement and cover it with dirt. Anything that might be worth salvaging will never see daylight, again.
)
