The fire burns through drywall layered against our supports and they soften with heat. For a moment they bend and I feel a part of the sky, apart from structure and weight.
Screams should remove me from the reverie, but my mind leaves them secondary, because in a second this cradle will fall.
(That’s not a hashtag by the way. It’s number. This is a series but I don’t know what number I’m on.)