The Bend in the Lane!

Fire had broken out in the dry street. The fan circulated the smell of burnt wood and skin through the room. The air of the room was still and dead. I picked up my handkerchief rubbed it on my face wet with sweat, threw it on the floor: I burst out of the dead air. I closed the door, slammed it, behind me. I left you. Before reaching the bend in the lane I turned back I ran toward the house, I called you and called you: my love! Without you, fire had broken out in my veins...