Renee slammed the car door shut and turned on the engine. On the horizon thick black smoke billowed in the air. She backed out, narrowly avoiding a pedestrian on the sidewalk, before slamming the accelerator and running straight through the intersection.
The smoke rose higher, and even though Renee couldn’t be sure it was coming from her house, it looked about right. The buildings and houses obscured her view directly, but in a few turns she would either breathe a huge sigh of relief or prepare to rush into a burning building.
Only twenty minutes earlier Renee left her house for coffee with a friend. But after her friend spotted the smoke her heart sank.
Had she left the iron on again?
A funny feeling told her she had. Renee was always forgetting things. And her freshly ironed shirt supported the deadly conclusion. In a few turns her worst fears would be confirmed. A water bottle lay beside her, it would help a bit when she ran into the burning building.
She sped around the bend, narrowly avoiding onlookers. Renee let out a breath. Her house wasn’t on fire. It was next door. Her house was safe.
Still, she was sure she’d left the iron on. She parked and jogged to her front doorstep. It was damp, so was the carpet inside. And then she remembered. She didn’t turn off the tap after filling up her water bottle, but at least the iron was off.