I look up to see a bright explosion and a falling line.
I walk toward the sound and talk to neighbors and strangers.
What if someone had been walking? We say.
When will the firefighters arrive?
How frightened the people in the house must be!
Shouldn’t the power shut off automatically?
Wise looks and nods follow.
The air fills with acrid electric smoke. The line rattles and sizzles and squirms, warning humans to keep their distance.
Fire fighters gather. They watch and wait.
Police divert traffic.
Blue, red and yellow lights flicker from their vehicles.
Us bystanders huddle in the cold rain, take photos and ask questions.
The flames grow larger.
The power company comes and goes.
Somewhere a hand trips a circuit. The life force drains from the line.
The work to repair and restore can begin.
The flame that drew us close releases us. We say goodbye and go about our day.
Just a little bit more connected.
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