Hey Ma, what´s cookin?

Sunday breakfast, 11: something am, candle light and coffee scent fill the apartment.
The doorbell rings. We ignore it, we don´t open for just anyone. About to sit down at the opulent table there´s some knocking on the door followed by more ringing.

Hmm...we successfully ignore that, too, but can´t ignore the apparent commotion in the hallway. Is someone moving in / out? But why would they so desperately want to let us know about it? Nah, thought dismissed, let´s feast.
Wait...now some very distant beeping sound - like the slightest tinnitus that drives you crazy because you can´t decide if you really hear it or if it´s just in your head - becomes more discernible. We do the math: ringing+knocking+commotion+beeping = not good at all.

We open the door to the hallway and witness an exodus of neighbors down the staircase, a few remain on our floor. How did we overhear all this shouting that fills the staircase? As we look down we see the fucking fire brigade that, as we learn from a neighbor, came to extinguish a fire on the floor directly below us! Fuck, that´s bad news! How am I supposed to save all my records from the flames? Are over twenty years of record collecting doomed to go up in smoke? Will my treasure chest of vinyl melt into one big black lump of steaming, stinking plastic? Just as I am about to get nautious / religious we hear the all-clear signal from the firefighters.

Back to the breakfast table. The day is saved and so is our house, our flat and my lps, 45s, 10"s, picture discs etc. No visible harm done, we didn´t see smoke or fire. The food is tasty but for a while we are a bit agitated and confused. Phew, that was a close call.

SONG FOR TODAY:

Crazy World of Arthur Brown - Fire