Tuesday, 6 September 2011
The fire and the jumping doll.
It was early morning Friday, when fire sirens assaulted my smooth running pace. A fire down Hope Street was bursting savagely and even from a few hundred meters I could see the flames flare up like a ferocious volcano at the break of dawn.
I ran faster to have a closer look: a fence of tightly aligned policemen was surrounding firm, confident fire fighters who were trying to convince a teenage girl to jump. “She lives on the ground floor, but she had to run up 9 stories to be able to escape the climbing fire”. I heard someone say.