Your comments made me laugh. I hope school is going well. Re: Princeton, I would need to know who is asking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Here is a story I wrote. It is exactly as good as you’d expect. The title of the story is “The Fires of Yolo County.” Yolo county is a real place, but the story is fiction. It may have something to do with climate change or capitalism’s negative impact on people and also where people live (Earth).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was written during and inspired by real fires that ravages Yolo county and neighboring areas during the pandemic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A gentle breeze coated the tables and chairs with ash for the third consecutive day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Is there another fire today?” a patron queried. She knew there was, as did everyone. It was the third one this summer, but her idle chit chat prevented awkward lulls.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As the days passed, the sky darkened and the air grew harsher on the throat and lungs. Oddly enough, no one seemed to mention the air at all, giving even less thought to these conditions than they had the day before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But the soot gradually spread its way down to the suburbs, hours inland from the bay. It was fire season in California, so perhaps the source wasn\u2019t a single fire at all. After all, there are always summer fires in the arid California climate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The next day, the dim morning sky lingered through the afternoon and evening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the city, a man wearing a surgical mask and a pressed suit walked into a coffee shop for a breath of fresh air. As he approached the front of the queue, he pulled back his mask, \u201cHave you seen this fire in the news at all?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The barista, a young man with a forgettable face, shook his head, \u201cNo.” The barista, a bit embarrassed, averted his gaze for a moment before his eyes rose to meet the stranger\u2019s eyes. The stranger looked away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the afternoon, dark clouds of smoke rolled in over the hills like fog. By the following week, the air reeked of ash. While no one knew where the fire was coming from, in the distance, people claimed they heard the wail of sirens.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In spite of the clamor and his wandering eyes, Isaac had yet to see a single response vehicle. His regular habits had also failed to inform him of any updates on the fires\u2019 locations. He only knew that the quality of the air warranted the use of a mask.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Isaac emerged from his mother\u2019s house on Monday morning, walking the same route he had always walked. The sun was shining bright, but its heat felt oddly weak. As he crossed the threshold of the front door, Isaac spotted some strange chalk drawings by the swingset in the park across the street. A pentagram in bright blue chalk was etched near a crude drawing of a demonic figure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In childlike handwriting, a curious scrawl caught Isaac\u2019s attention:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019m gonna find<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n you and kill<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n you kid<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n ~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Tuesday night, after his mother returned from work, she and Isaac walked around the neighborhood. The familiar jaunt was just uncommon enough to notice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDidn\u2019t grandpa used to own a farm here?\u201d Isaac asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHe worked here… He was told to buy land here\u2014 that they were going to develop. But he had just bought the house in Richmond… and the house in Mexico.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201c…we could have been land barons,\u201d Isaac laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYeah, we could\u2018ve…\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n The pair gazed at the charred mountains just across the freeway– a single row of houses and a small hill were all that separated their calm and quiet neighborhood from the busy throughway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Isaac\u2019s mother nodded, \u201cIt\u2019s a good thing the wind is blowing in the other direction.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI guess…\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019ll burn out soon,\u201d she assured him. \u201cThere\u2019s no vegetation.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s all dry grass though.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThere\u2019s no trees or anything green.\u201d There was a pause as they continued walking down the road\u2014 the park to their right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat\u2019s right about where the Youngs live, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n ~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n By the end of June, nothing had changed. The fire appeared in the news, though the coverage was minimal. The inferno and the destruction left in its wake seemed far away; and yet, there was a sense of unease that lingered in the air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n While Isaac appreciated his mother\u2019s presence when she arrived home, there were long hours after Isaac returned from work in which her absence was not missed. Nevertheless, he was lonely. So, it was odd, he thought, that when he experienced a chance encounter with an old friend he should care so little. Odder still was that the peculiar nature of their meeting should feel so inert.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJohn?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n John was walking through the grocery store with no cart and nothing in his hands. Yet he walked straight up to Isaac and seemed surprised to see him there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n John looked disappointed. His voice was tinged with pity, \u201cYou need to get outta here.\u201d He shook his head and the somber grimace adorning his boyish face sent a tingle down Isaac\u2019s spine. But before Isaac could think to respond, or even react, John turned away and walked straight out of the store.<\/p>\n\n\n\n ~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n It was July when Benjamin returned to California. Isaac was quite excited to have a friend in the area even if only for a moment. While the two had no formal plans, the routine revealed itself to Isaac as the rituals rolled on. The indeterminate idea of catching up quickly resolving into a visit to Benjamin\u2019s childhood home. The visit became the familiar activity of walking to the courts to prevent an awkward lull.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n While the two played some variation of basketball, their small-talk scripts played autonomously.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHow\u2019s the job?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHow\u2019s the family?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDo you still hang out with Rushil?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat\u2019s Mary up to nowadays?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n And the larger, more sensitive questions reared their heads.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDid you ever take another crack at stand-up?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo. It\u2019s easy to head out to an open mic night, but to really do it– I\u2019d have to travel. How\u2019s the music going?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m working on another song now. I haven\u2019t finished the last one, but this one\u2019s a bit more simple, so I think I can really get it clean.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n All these queries were followed up by any number of familiar \u201cdo-you-remembers.\u201d But as the patterns emerged, a newer, queerer pattern took Isaac by surprise as the pair returned to Benjamin\u2019s family home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Ben let out a deep sigh and spoke with a solemnity that Isaac seldom ever heard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou need to get outta here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n ~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Isaac was on the train when he saw her. He had been lamenting Brazil\u2019s elimination from the World Cup. Isaac felt no personal attachment to the sport. In fact, he never watched a match even during the finals. But, he liked to imagine his father was watching the games from wherever it was a dead man\u2019s identity persists.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n His pallid face contained no expression and his back was haunched into a familiar slouch when he noticed her noticing him. She looked as though she\u2019d seen a ghost. At first, he almost wasn\u2019t sure if it was<\/em> her. But he also knew– not with his thoughts nor with his heart nor with his gut\u2014 he knew that it was her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n As she boarded the train into the city, she mouthed the words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He knew what she was saying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He knew that it was strange.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But all he could think about was how he could no longer remember the sound of her voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Isaac removed a glass from the kitchen cabinet and filled it with ice. As he began to pour himself some water, his mother came in from the yard. She had been working in the hot sun scouring old paint off of the deck in order to stain it. She walked into the kitchen and looked him square in the eye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n There was a moment when Isaac felt time stop. And then, she said it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s too late to get out, dear.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Isaac remembered something strange when she said it\u2014 images of cold, withered hands assailed him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry, son.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n ~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n His mother\u2019s hand was cold and unfathomably small when the doctor had told him it was time. Her face did not look like that of an angel or as though she were only sleeping. It didn\u2019t look like hers at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Her clothes didn\u2019t smell like anything either, but perhaps that was normal. Perhaps scents, and the memories of them are supposed to fade. And yet nothing still smelled like something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Today, it smelled like smoke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n He had packed each blouse, each scarf, every sweater away into boxes, and he had left them in the closet\u2014 he could think of no other use for the space.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Today, as she spoke, his mother looked sad– unfathomably and unspeakably so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Isaac turned toward the door and suddenly felt very hot. As he walked, his feet felt detached but heavy, and each step seemed to push the exit farther and farther away. From behind him, he could hear a voice\u2014 unknown but familiar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry, but it\u2019s much too late.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Isaac\u2019s steps seemed to sink deep into the floor as the familiar features of his home faded into the deepest blackness he had ever seen. He gasped in panic as he realized he couldn\u2019t breathe. His body sank until it floated, and then, it sank deeper still.<\/p>\n\n\n\n ~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n By the time Isaac was removed from his home, he had succumbed to smoke inhalation. On site EMTs were unable to resuscitate him. At 3:14 AM on Wednesday, the 23rd day of May in the year of our Lord 2018, Isaac Zimri was declared dead on the scene. The fire marshal traced the source of the blaze to piles and piles of rubbish, just waiting to ignite.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It was May 24th, 2018, and to the people of Yolo county, everything seemed to go on as normally as ever.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Your comments made me laugh. I hope school is going well. Re: Princeton, I would need to know who is asking. Here is a story I wrote. It is exactly as good as you’d expect. 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