By Alexandra Ely
The sound of the smoke alarm dances on my eardrums. Adrenaline springs me from bed. The clock says 8:00 a.m.
I tuck the cat under my arm, grab my phone, and trip over the sheets reaching for the door. Flying down the stairs, I yell, “Fire!”
A smoky haze hovers between the floor and ceiling. I run out the back door and step on something hot and crispy.
“Bacon?”
She tossed the bacon? My fight or flight lessens and I peek my head into the kitchen. The windows are open and the fan is blowing.
Yep, Mom’s trying to cook again.
Good story. Enjoyed it, especially grabbing the cat to safe him.
Thank you. Always gotta same the cat. ?
Your writing had me visually there the whole time in suspense and then the giggle and relief when it was Mom’s fault for the fire!
Thank you!
This reminds me of growing up with my own mom!
Haha, this may or may not be inspired by true events. 😉
loved the title
Thanks! Thinking of the title was one of the harder parts. Haha
“Dances on my eardrums” is a great metaphor; it really stood out to me.
Thank you for letting me know. 🙂
Ha Ha, whenever I had a minor kitchen mishap (usually something spilled in the oven or it was dirty), and the smoke alarms went off, my sons and hubs would yell from wherever they were, “Mama’s cooking!”
Haha, yes! 😉