Smoke

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This post has stuff about religion and a previous relationship. My perspective has changed

You don’t know what it is like to come home to a house billowing with smoke until it has happened to you.

Tonight when I arrived home from work I noticed that my wife was gone. It is not uncommon for her to be gone with the kids when I get home, so I thought nothing of it. I parked the truck and moped my way up to the entrance to our house through the garage. As soon as I opened the door I realized there was a problem.

The laundry room, which is the thoroughfare to our house from the garage, was filled with smoke. My dog was trapped in inside, barking and whining, inhalining all that smoke. I quickly brought her into the garage where the air was fresh. I thought to myself that there was a problem with the washer or dryer. They were both empty. Probably hadn’t been running. That’s when I got stupid.

Without hesitation I charged into the house. It was filled from floor to ceiling with dense smoke. Thinking about it now, I realize that movies do not portray this scene acurately. Smoke does not leave a perfect 3 foot crawl space along the floor. No, It fills your shoes that are in a closed closet in a locked room. It fills the pockets of your pants that laying on your bed. At this point I realized that I couldn’t breathe.

What do you think I should have done? Head outside maybe? Call the fire department from my neighbors house? Yeah. I agree. That’s what any sane person would do. But I was not sane. As far as I knew the lives of my wife and children were burning to the ground. I went in without thought.

I ended up in the kitchen. A pot was hemorrhaging smoke like a witches caldron. Thank God the house wasn’t burning down.