FIRE BY DAY

There was a car on fire on the way to work this morning. I saw the smoke first, billowing black across the roundabout. Then a pastiche of a thin police officer positioning a blue POLICE notice in the middle of the road with a group of spectators watching through the haze of smoke and blue-flashing lights. Then the vehicle.

It was a Jeep. It looked like the engine had exploded and sent burning fuel across the road. The front of the vehicle was a ball of flame, licking round the metal and the tyres, and spitting petrol onto the concrete. It was horrendous. I don't think anyone was hurt, thankfully. There was nobody inside.

I don't like the way fire moves in bright sunlight. Normally we experience fire at night-time, where its brightness is comforting - in daylight it moves in crisp, snake-like HD, blue and orange and real, like an action shot from a movie. It was disturbing to see it. If I'd been an Israelite in the desert, I think I'd have had to walk with my eyes shut.

As always of course, this news was recounted in great detail throughout the office, by everyone who was inconvenienced/fascinated by the roadblock. Offices are magnifying glasses for things like this - soon it was everywhere. Well, almost. One person read his email much later when it had all died down a bit, and then boomingly announced:

"Apparently there's a jeep on fire at the end of the road!"

Everyone laughed very unkindly.

"We've literally just been talking about it," they said, cackling, "Properly loudly!"

He was embarrassed, so I swept in and took the conversation away from that moment. Well, I tried to, anyway. I made some comment about what I'd seen and how it looked a bit like a scene from Terminator or something.

Meanwhile, the fire brigade came and extinguished the blazing jeep. Fire-fighting in the summer must be exhausting - all that heavy gear and equipment! I remember putting it all on, in the Fire Station in Toronto that time when Emmie and Nick took me to see their friend Warren. I doubt I'd make a great fire-fighter. I'm too short, for one thing. Nope, looks like I'll stick to stuffing a yellow jacket into my drawer and pretending to be important whenever the fire alarm goes off.

My friend smiled at me, as if to say thank you for rescuing him from the conversation, and extinguishing the awkward moment. I looked back and nodded. 'No problem'.