I woke up this morning to the smell of smoke. I decided to investigate. I walked downstairs and outside, then took a look down the street. What I saw was smoke billowing from behind the house at the end of the street. It was then that I knew the factory down the street had caught fire. My father followed soon after me down those stairs. I walked down the street barefoot to investigate. I guess I forgot to wear shoes. That factory had been there and operational since before I had moved to my current house. I was 14 back then, I'm 27 now. The fire was huge, the flames were visible from down the block. It was then I knew that the damage to the factory was going to be really really bad. The smoke was thick and black so I decided to get back inside turn the fans on exhaust and try to save my lungs.
The sadder story below the fold.