Fighting Fire

Sirens blare from the fire station nearby. I sit up and throw my legs over the side of my bed, eyes closed. I hardly remember when the sound of sirens didn’t chill me to the core. Back then, all we had to fire were fires.

I open my eyes and stand. I had fallen asleep in my bunker gear. Shaking my head clear of what I was to face, I hurried outside to my truck. Barreling along the streets, I follow the smoke. Thunderous roars and human screams replace the sound of sirens. Dragons don’t appreciate firefighters undoing their work.