Dyke and I must have been 7 and 9 years old: We had gotten matching race cars for christmas except mine was blue and his was red. You pulled a chord that caused the weels to turn and then you let them race-after awhile of this I got bored and decided that jumping through a fire would be alot more fun. So we headed out behind the fence for our adventure. The only problem was that our little fire turned into a really big fire. By the time the fire dept got there about 2 acres had burnt. I got a whippin and had to go down to the fire dept. to talk to the fire chief who showed me the skin on his chest; which had been severly burnt in a fire many years previously and looked wavey like the frosting on a cake-he all but blamed it on "stupid little kids like you (me)"-scared the hell out of me.
No comments:
Post a Comment