Day 66

Although I am certain no one noticed, I was out for several days. Since I am still in recovery mode, I thought I would just take this time to repost my short, Fire Drill inspired play, The Burning VII. Please see below.

The Burning VII

Ever there is the smell of burning.  What passions inflame the heart that the brain is set afire, and the soul reduced to ashes?

Petraitis:  Bells, bells, bells the accursed bells!  Are they here in my corporeal world or do they exist only as my soul reaches closer each year to Hell’s eternity?

Class:  I think that’s the fire alarm.

Petraitis: Why do we have alarms for fires, but not for broken hearts, institutionalized stupidity, nor the ever-eroding fullness of the soul?

Class:  I think you are supposed to take us out of the building. 

Student 1:  Mr. Petraitis, let us stay here and immolate ourselves in the ruins of the once great Cypress Bay.  Let us become the soil and ash from which brighter flowers and futures spring.

Petraitis:  Yes!  Let it all burn, for I have grown reckless in my madness!

Student 2:  Come to your senses man!  There will be no Cypress Bay 2 if there is no one to act as steward!  For the love of all that is still right and left untouched by the soft and indelicate hand of those that would see us fall, please save us!

Petraitis:  Save?  How can I save you.  Yes, you will not burn today, but there will be other fire drills and they will continue when I am not here.  If there is a rabid fox on the field, who will fight it?  If the grass is wet, who will dry it?  No, you are as alone as I am.  I cannot save you, only prolong you.  However, come with me if you want to live.  For now.  The future is still behind the dark curtain of time and that curtain only holds back a darker one!

Student 1:  Mr. Petraitis, did you forget your coffee today? 

Petraitis:  I did. 

Student 2:  Should we all just head down the east stairs and out to the field to location 9?

Petraitis: Yes.  The field.  The field offers us refuge.  We will head down the east stairs to the field and that will be where we wait for the cleansing flames to finally tear down this edifice of stairs too steep, bathrooms too small and bells too short.

Student 1:  Yeah…lets just go.

The class heads outdoors to the field.  Only just in time.  The flames reach the bathrooms and the plumbing erupts in a cloud of vape smoke that rises in a mushroom cloud above the school.  All those not already in their evacuation spots are overcome by the toxic cotton candy flavored mist.  They fall, frozen in time like a stupid Pompeii for the next generation to pity.  Mr. Petraitis and his class lives, but what is that life worth? 

Student 2:  Omg.  Just shut up.

Petraitis:  OK