The Magic Bullet Theory
I woke up to the sound of fire engines racing on the street below my window. The heavy sound of the diesel working overtime, the scream of the distinctive siren, the blaring of the horn like a harbinger as if the first two noises weren’t enough. Through the haze of just-waking eyelids fluttering like the first flaps of a butterfly I saw the white and red flashing on my water-stained ceiling. (more…)