{Blogged from Phone} On the Bright Side... I've Decided to Quit Smoking
Honestly... I wouldn't be surprised if many of you saw this on the morning news, but... there was a kitchen fire late last night in one of those many family-owned Chinese restaurants in central Liberty. This particular restaurant is -- was -- located beside the flower shop.
It took everything. Both buildings are hardly recognizable now; nothing but ashes. Nichyego no zoli....
I don't remember much because I was just oh so fortunate enough to black out after breathing in too much smoke. I'm not quite sure how long I'll be at Liberty Hospital... the nurses keep putting me on oxygen and painkillers for the burns on my arms, but... really, I'm fine. And I hate wearing that stupid mask over my mouth and nose. The air smells funny and hospitals have always made me incredibly nervous. Everything's too white... and the stupid heart monitor makes me flinch every time it beeps. It just reminds me of that stupid rehab center.
And...
I can't imagine how this poor thing feels being the last of its kind. One of the firefighters brought it into my room last night while I was half conscious. My vision was a little blurred, but that raven-colored hair is... ominously familiar. God, I could recognize a face like that in a crowd of a million and a half.
I won't be giving my room number out to anyone. I can't stand the thought of anyone seeing me like this.
It took everything. Both buildings are hardly recognizable now; nothing but ashes. Nichyego no zoli....
I don't remember much because I was just oh so fortunate enough to black out after breathing in too much smoke. I'm not quite sure how long I'll be at Liberty Hospital... the nurses keep putting me on oxygen and painkillers for the burns on my arms, but... really, I'm fine. And I hate wearing that stupid mask over my mouth and nose. The air smells funny and hospitals have always made me incredibly nervous. Everything's too white... and the stupid heart monitor makes me flinch every time it beeps. It just reminds me of that stupid rehab center.
And...
I can't imagine how this poor thing feels being the last of its kind. One of the firefighters brought it into my room last night while I was half conscious. My vision was a little blurred, but that raven-colored hair is... ominously familiar. God, I could recognize a face like that in a crowd of a million and a half.
I won't be giving my room number out to anyone. I can't stand the thought of anyone seeing me like this.