I wanted to tell them that it was ok, that they could stop their mission. *I* was perfectly fine, so there was no need to put out the fire. There is something that I have always found comforting about the flames of a huge fire. Something burned inside me as I watched the mountain set ablaze.

When I drove home from work and pulled into my apartment complex the view changed. The smoke and flames seemed WAY closer to me, and I felt like it could actually be possible for this fire to reach me. My complacency dissipated. I looked for the planes that I had wanted to call off earlier. They were still flying and dropping water. I am glad they didn’t listen to me.

It’s easy to be apathetic or content with evil or mediocrity when it only impacts everyone else. As soon as it has the ability to affect me, I get scared. I guess it is time to fly straight and put out some fires of my own.