Posted on October 22, 2007 in Santiago Fire
A few minutes ago, shortly after I finished my first article of the day about the local holocaust, I heard my door creaking. Open and shut. Open and shut. Just now I went to close it. The eucalyptus trees, which had stood so straight, bent over. As if it had just been out to lunch, the wind was back.
I’m back to trembling.
From another part of the county.