This is Lindy Lewis
I stood in my old red robe, oddly frozen, watching the flames consume all my possessions and memories.
The heat was intense. THe flames were as high as the treetops. Sparks flew and exploded in the air, cascading into spiraling tails of color. "Stand back, everyone, please," a burly fireman said in a gruff voice. The early morning march winds carried the smell of hot rubber for blocks and the fireman nervously waved me back as the paint began to bubble and sizzle on my car parked next to my house. A seed of doubt crept into my mind now as I watched it all happening. Maybe, just maybe, I'd made a mistake.