Well, now I can't say I've never actually seen a fire up close before. I walked out of Troy's house and we both smelled something bad in the air. And we smelled it all the way back towards my house. Then we saw a firetruck turn right in front of us. I figured that the fire might be close, so I scanned the sky to see if I could find the smoke. All of a sudden the outline of smoke became visible, and it was RIGHT IN FRONT OF US. An apartment complex thingy was on fire right on 7 Mile and Bently. And, well, I felt kinda bad about it, but I really wanted to watch, so Troy and I pulled over and watched them put it out. It seemed to take a really long time before they turned the water on. There were a lot of fire trucks, too; something like 6 or even 7. And lots of police cars, and two or three ambulances. We heard a siren after I got home, and Dad thought it meant the fire was back again even though I thought that it looked like it was mostly out when we drove away. I think there were a few people who inhaled a lot of smoke, but it didn't seem like anyone was seriously hurt. I said a few prayers while I was there, and I have something else to pray as well: God, thank you that it wasn't me. As I watched the fire, I couldn't help but think about all of those people's possessions being lost. And I thought about how precious some of the things I own are to me. Yeah, I know that they're just things, and they're not people or life, but I guess the thing I thought about first was my journals. I think if I had time to grab anything if our house was on fire that is what I would go for. But anyway, thank you, God, that no one was seriously hurt, be with those who were hurt and heal them, and thank you that it wasn't my friends or anyone that I know and care about, or me or my family.