When they smelled the smoke they should have
just run. They should have put on
something other than their pajamas, maybe, but beyond that they should have
done nothing but snatch up their phones and wallets and head for the
fucking hills. They should have just reacted like any normal, scared human
But no. They weren’t normal. They didn’t just run away from bad stuff. They ran toward
it; they tried to stop it. They were helpers.
Emma loved that about herself, and about
Belle. It’s why they became friends in the first place. They were the ride or
And it appeared they were choosing die today.
to her to be cracking jokes in her head before she burns to death.
(Hey, she gets bitter when her attempts at
helping don’t do a damn thing.)
“Belle! Belle, are you here?”
To be fair, when Emma and Belle had run toward the source of the smoke rather
than away, they really weren’t thinking it was going to be life-threatening
decision. Kind of like how she figured closet sex in an airport wouldn’t get
her on the terror watch list or how she thought becoming friends with her loud
next door neighbor couldn’t possibly irrevocably change her life. Oh, how the
universe loved to prove her wrong.
The smoke was now so heavy that Emma couldn’t
see her fingertips as they slid along the soon-to-melt retro-ass commercial
carpet, her attempts to crawl down the hallway not seeming to get her anywhere
close to fresh air.
“Emma!” Belle choked out, somewhere to her
left. “Stay low!”
I was planning on going up there where all the heavy smoke and death was.
needed to chill with the snark and focus on surviving.
I’m not sure whether it’s having looked at way too many invite samples or just the nonsense of the industry but I’m starting to realize I know colors very differently than these companies do… Since when do we call a flat out purple hue “Deep Azure“? That’s an alternate fact right there, imagine if we all started calling these things however we wanted: “No, officer, I didn’t run a red light, it was fire truck green!”
The hairdresser would be a nightmare. “What do you mean this isn’t the color you wanted? Look at that gorgeous Flamingo Blonde, picture perfect!“