[Original: Drabble] "Siren Call" [Zeke Jones, G]
Title: Siren Call
Prompt: writerverse challenge #28 august table of doom #08
Band: Trout Fishing in America
Lyric(s): There’s a silence from the squad car/Sirens on the street (“My Front Door”)
Word Count: 242
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: Zeke and Howell lend a hand at a fire scene.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Siren Call
My partner tells me, often, that I talk too much.
I’m not sure that’s the kind of thing you can accurately quantify, if there’s a standard amount of talking a grown person is supposed to do per day, and whether or not I’m over the limit. And even if I am, Howell hardly talks anyway, so shouldn’t I get to use his leftover words?
So, as usual, I was talking and singing along to the radio and generally making a nuisance of myself- until we heard a siren start up several blocks away.
It wasn’t one of ours, it was a fire siren, but we responded anyway. After telling Dispatch where we were going, our car was quiet, following the fire engine as it rounded the corner. In this part of town, the buildings were low enough that I could already see the smoke, the odd burning ember shooting up into the dark sky, and I said a silent Hail Mary for the people involved- I wasn’t sure, most of the time, how much I believed in that anymore, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.
Howell parked the squad car at the end of the driveway to a warehouse engulfed in flames and we both got out, moving to direct the crowd that had already begun to gather. It took the firefighters until almost dawn to get the fire under control, and it was a pretty quiet ride back to our precinct.
THE END
Current Mood:
rainy
Prompt: writerverse challenge #28 august table of doom #08
Band: Trout Fishing in America
Lyric(s): There’s a silence from the squad car/Sirens on the street (“My Front Door”)
Word Count: 242
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: Zeke and Howell lend a hand at a fire scene.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Siren Call
My partner tells me, often, that I talk too much.
I’m not sure that’s the kind of thing you can accurately quantify, if there’s a standard amount of talking a grown person is supposed to do per day, and whether or not I’m over the limit. And even if I am, Howell hardly talks anyway, so shouldn’t I get to use his leftover words?
So, as usual, I was talking and singing along to the radio and generally making a nuisance of myself- until we heard a siren start up several blocks away.
It wasn’t one of ours, it was a fire siren, but we responded anyway. After telling Dispatch where we were going, our car was quiet, following the fire engine as it rounded the corner. In this part of town, the buildings were low enough that I could already see the smoke, the odd burning ember shooting up into the dark sky, and I said a silent Hail Mary for the people involved- I wasn’t sure, most of the time, how much I believed in that anymore, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.
Howell parked the squad car at the end of the driveway to a warehouse engulfed in flames and we both got out, moving to direct the crowd that had already begun to gather. It took the firefighters until almost dawn to get the fire under control, and it was a pretty quiet ride back to our precinct.
THE END
Current Mood:
rainy