The shrill voice of the alarm rang. It went on emitting ear splitting sounds. All because I had put a little oil into the frying pan. The oil started to sizzle, and I had forgotten to switch off the heat.
I rushed first to remove the pan from heat, turned on the exhaust, and ran to the balcony doors to let fresh air in. I was furious with myself as to how could I had committed the crime of forgetfulness?
Son had cautioned me earlier as not to open our front door in case of any mishap. He was home, so he judiciously reminded me again, while sitting on a sofa, and calmly watching me run towards the balcony doors.
There had been an unfortunate incident which had happened to a couple living in the same building as us. The wife opened the front door, and the whole apartment was deluged with water from the sprinklers. Their belongings were ruined, and they had no insurance.
The strict instructions from the management are: that when the fire alarm is activated, the front door shouldn’t be opened, otherwise the next set of alarms in the corridor turns on the water sprinklers.
The fire alarm rang on continuously. It wouldn’t stop, making me wonder whether it would continue screeching for the whole night. I waved a towel at it, hoping it might have a quietening effect. It was a futile effort. My ears were getting damaged. I moved away, and waited. Finally it stopped.
I’m a careful person, and still it happened. I hope it never happens again.
What were we thinking off? Son, and I. Simply I don’t remember. We stepped out of our balcony doors, and Son pulled the mesh door shut so that any unseen errant fly, or mosquito lurking there didn’t get it into their tiny heads to head indoors, and later do their annoying buzzing around us, or suck our blood unbeknown to us.
Meanwhile my pot full of chickpeas was bubbling merrily inside on the stove. I had meant to be outside for just a few minutes. It turned out to be anxious half an hour, because we couldn’t get in. The mesh door got locked, and despite Son trying to get it open, it wouldn’t budge.
Son tried all his maneuvers on the mesh door, but it wouldn’t open. Nobody was passing on the footpath beneath the balcony, so that we could tell someone to help us. Finely Son did something to jiggle it. I rushed inside to look at my pot of chickpeas. Thankfully there was still enough water in it before they could have burnt.
Son likes home cooked chickpeas for chat, salads, or added to rice. He says it tastes much better than the can variety. I boil a whole lot, then store it into portions (needed for any dishes) in the freezer. Then I take out a portion when I want it.
To this day when I step out into the balcony to water my plants, I’m careful with the mesh door. I close it to leave a half inch gap. I wouldn’t want to be outside waiting for an undetermined time till someone rescues me.
Hearing the fury of the wind I drew the verticals to side. I grasped my iPhone, and opened the glass doors. I pushed the mesh door aside, and was hit by the snowflakes. It’s raging outside. Even the balcony is being covered with snow.
I’m sitting snug at home, while Son is in Connecticut. He must have battled snow to get early to his job. He drove last evening the 120 miles there.
Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt
I waited for summer to come
Watching the tree from my balcony
The tree was bare without leaves
And summer came covering the tree
But I won’t be here again
Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.