A fire

We were walking out of the mall after watching Bruce Lee, My Brother, only to notice that the town was shrouded in smoke.

It didn't take us much time to locate its source. A fire broke out in a nearby shophouse.

It's pretty terrifying to see the enormous plumes of smoke billowing from the windows, blurring the night sky partially. And the horrendous tongues of fire that looked as if they're going to greedily wipe out everything in their way.

I remember what I wrote in my essays when I was in secondary school. About the pandemonium and the victims who ran helter skelter, yelling for help. Nonetheless, last night, the scene was rather different. The fire had actually attracted a deluge of curious onlookers.

A few firemen walked past me. I realized they're all very tall and huge, emanating heroism and gallantry. They smelled nice, with a hint of sweat and perfume, and that underlying musk. Yeah right, I was just fantasizing.

My heart skipped a few beats as I watched the firefighters ascend the ladder to extinguish the fire. I held them in high esteem for their courage and selflessness in battling against the blaze. And how they skilfully contained the spread of the fire. It ached my heart to watch them risk their lives and dally with danger.

In my essays, I used to write about my commiseration to the victims. And how my heart sank when I saw the hopelessness in their eyes. I guess I should have elaborated more on the heroism of the firefighters. Even by looking at them, you feel a sense of security.

The tragedy has also humbled me a little. On earth, you may be a doctor. But, before God, you're no one but a human.