Doug Funk Was Staring At Me

Doug Funk was staring at me. He was scared of the fire which happened to be incredibly awful at the time. It was hard to think of the dry carcass we stood in as home. A place of merrymaking and mirth. I sauntered away from the particularly large flame that would not stop making offensive signs behind my back. My ears turned to dust and flowed away in the gentile breeze of the morning air. Something was wrong. The morning air was here so in that case we must be outside! I was right! How nice yet disappointing. I had failed this noble town as a fireman and now the house was a pile of indestructible tiles and nothing more. This was so maddening! I woke up fresh and early the next day for 24 hours of pure self punishment. I woke up fresh and early the next day because someone was standing over me jabbing me repeatedly in the chest. I was angry. I was mental. First my extreme self doubt and now this! This was too much. I had to ask them a question about my life. I struggled. It was at that point I realized my jaw was asleep and only a strong dose of pure caffeine was going to sort that. I was talking absolute nonsense. I must still be dreaming. Thomas MacDonald is dreaming, in actual fact the jabbing sensation he experiencing in lower chest in actually an ironic concoction of me leaping forcefully up and down on his face and his stabbing guilt. I thumped the little fiend in the face. “Doug Funk, what are you doing on my face?” I roared at his spraying bits of potato caught beneath my teeth into his little smiling swine of a face. Then I felt bad. “I am so sorry Doug Funk,” I whispered most sincerely into his ear. He then whispered a word no doubt insulting me into the side of my head. I heard nothing. Which reminded me I had to collect that box containing my ashes from that families temporary house. Doug Funk began to write a message on a whiteboard. It read: We need to scatter away from this place as hastily as possible, there's a car encapsulated within a ball of flames down the road! I felt a bit wow. We were professionals. We had helmets, we had hoses. We also sometimes liked to drive all our tones of equipment around in our fire engine which we also had one of. I lifted my hand extravagantly through the windscreen causing it to shatter and end.