Outside of my house
The sun up high and a blaze.

My coffee cup rested in my hands
I take a slip, its lukewarm.

I glance out the window, seeing children having fun.

One shredding on a skateboard, looked worn from all the grinding he done,
A small girl swing under a willow tree, a lollipop held tightly in her hand,
Other kids play near a mud puddle made from yesterday’s rain, one drown a toy school bus and just smile at the results.

It seem like a normal day,
Not a hitch was seen or heard.

Even the men cross the street playing cards on the porch, one with a bushy mustache won another hand it seem, others just shot him looks of displease meant,
A small aquarium set a side of their game, filled to the brim with cigars from the hours they have been playing at.

A small town like this can be so boring, why on earth did I ever more here,
I still had two or so large, cardboard boxes to unpack and sort,
Bitter lukewarm coffee didn’t even break my train of thought.

My reflections of this lame town shatter as a fire truck,
Zoomed pass my house in such speed.

Down the road, where a single aging woman lived,
I overheard she grows sun flowers in her backyard during the hot seasons.

Without missing a beat, I rush out in my pjs,
Seeing flames taking hold of the bitty old woman’s home,
Her mail box and outer-line of her lawn were the only things untouched by the fire.

The flames were soon put out, the corpse of the aging woman was nothing but bones and soot,
parts still fresh, little bits of eyebrows and skin linger on the bony face,
As the men carried the body out of the burn house,
Her face shown fearfulness of what happen before her unspecified death.

A day like this just doesn’t happen out of nowhere,
Little Buffalo had its surprises, I can only imagine what could happen next.

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