Wasn’t me.

We had another fire last night. It wasn’t at the Dollarama, but a few doors down. This one was bigger. It took hours to put out. There were lights for miles, and sirens, and my flat filled with smoke. Look at it all, plumes and plumes of it, blowing all over the place.

I mean, I couldn’t see much, just the glare and the trucks and a few looky-loos. I didn’t open the door in case more smoke got in. But it must’ve been big. It took hours to put out, with those cherry lights going the whole time. The power went out too, and then it came back, then it went out again, and my clocks stopped.

Anyway, it’s strange, two fires on the same block within weeks of each other. Maybe there’s a firebug, one of those pyromaniacs. Like, what if the Dollarama was practice, then last night was…I don’t know. A smoky, smelly wankathon? An insurance thing? A prelude to murder? Maybe he’ll burn us all, just…torch us in our beds, and we’ll bubble like pork ribs, and we’ll kind of smell good….

Don’t worry, though. I’ll be fine if that happens. Well, unless the smoke gets me. But my balcony’s low enough I could jump to the T&T sign, and from there to the street. My feet would be sore, and I might break an ankle, but I’d live.

Still, I thought I’d just list all the suspicious-looking people I saw yesterday, in case one of them done it. Here they are, in no particular order:

Some guy in a Rolls

We’re not a Rolls neighbourhood. Plus, he was hugging the kerb, inching along like a slug on a palm leaf. At one point, his wheel bumped up over the verge. I don’t know. Maybe he was trying to park. Anyway, he got out and went in the Dollarama, and he bought a Coke, and what the fuck?

Green Honda Dude

There was this dude on a green Honda bike. He had a matching green helmet, and green shoes. He looked like a katydid. That’s weird, right?

Woman with Foam Bricks

She was old, pushing eighty, and she had an armful of foam bricks painted to look like real bricks. I thought they were real till she dropped one, and it bounced into the street. A car ran it over, and it slowly puffed back up. Maybe they were foam bricks soaked in firelighter. Maybe she, like…took some bricks out of the wall and put in her firebricks, then she lit a long fuse, and several hours later…

…or not.

Pig Boy

He had a shirt with a pig on it. Sus.

“Oi! Trim my hedge!”

There were two men on ladders, trimming the trees, and some berk walking by slapped the one on the arse and yelled “oi! Trim my hedge!” He yelled it so loud I heard it up here, over the roar of the street and through my window. I suppose that was more sexual assault than suspicious behaviour, as such, but who knows? People do that, a wee crime to hide a big one, like when you let the dog piss on the rug to mask the juice you spilt.

Ye Lai Xiang

Some guy went by singing Ye lai xiang. He had a pretty good voice, but who sings? Who just sings?

(Someone who’s happy, that’s who. Happy because they’re about to cash a big settlement. I see you, Ye lai xiang.)

Too Many Bags Man

This other guy staggered out of the Dollarama with about a million bags. He kept dropping stuff and having to stop and pick it up. You make two trips, man. You have to make two trips.

Anyhow, those were all the weird-dash-ohs. Everyone else was just boring, regular foot traffic, sort of thing. Oh, except me. I was out too, looking for some delivery guy who got lost bringing me breakfast. That was strange, ’cause I never go out. But I didn’t set the fire.

Ohhhhhhhh…Joe McCarthy, Richard Nixon, Studebaker, television,
North Korea, South Korea, Marilyn Monroe…I didn’t start the fire! It’s always been burning since the world was turning, and I didn’t start the fire.

Nope.

Wasn’t me.