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Fire Descending

July 6, 2015

I woke to a post-apocalyptic sky, a glowing dome so pure and uniform it looked like paint, the inside of a bowl, a force field. The light it emitted was the color of new grass, of pond scum, and threw the world into relief—edges sharper, curves rounder, everything that little bit more present. It was as though the world was out of phase, or more accurately, as though I was out of phase with the world. There were no people either, not on the streets or in the park or behind the wheels of cars. Everything was silent and I was alone, with no choice but to move forward.

In related news, a fair bit of my province is on fire right now and thanks to weather patterns, smoke from a bunch of those fires has ended up in Vancouver. It’s more eerie and unsettling than anything, though as I sit here inside, I can still smell smoke and my brain of course leaps to “the neighbourhood’s on fire”. Anyway, I’m planning my usual Monday Writing Jaunt for later today and my destination has clean, cool air, so I’m definitely looking forward to that. (Click that link, scroll down to the pictures, choose #5, and you’ll get an idea of my Sunday morning.)

Also, I hope all the fires get put out soon because the people in those communities have got to be scared right now. Especially the folks who’ve been evacuated.

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