Kerosene to the family photos. A match. The father, mother, woken by the son, link hands and crawl through the flames, towards the door, son and father--mother stopping short--choking lack of air reaching reaching the doorknob it's locked deadbolt oh the deadbolt why is it so high turning choking falling so close the doorknob. Mother surges forward the doorknob out to fresh air turning the knob nothing happens nothing can't get out only hope suffocation the heat.
Help she yells feebly, knocks on the door no one will come no air sliding down to her final resting place so close
But no, stomping boots and an oxygen tank a fireman come to save them thank God her eyes whisper the door just turn the knob the door but why are you standing there I know you why are you here just open the door our only hope no no no
Clomping boots, away through the flames to the back door, leaving the woman with her eyes following his figure desperately, motionless next to her husband for the last time.
~~~in the style of William Faulkner~~~
