The Great Fire

Her voice broke as she cried out. She was in a crippling state of panic, and the adrenaline almost blinded her. She looked around her little home- it was simple, but clean, and contained all of her favourite items: pretty glassware she’d found discarded in the mud at the Thames; the greens and browns reflecting the sinister colours of the fire. Books she'd loved and read time and again. Sketches she'd done of London, propped up on the fireplace.

She looked around, deciding what she could take with her- it was heart-breaking. She couldn’t take any of the furniture her father had made so lovingly for her. The little solid table, with his signature feather carved into one of the legs. She couldn’t take the beautiful painting her mother had done of the pure sand at the shore in St Ives one day they had gone there together. She couldn’t take the crimson pillow her grandmother had traded for a jar of honey at a market. It still smelled of her honey-scented perfume. She had to flee, and fast!

The roar of the fire as it devoured the city was like a mythical monster, carrying out punishment upon the mortals who scampered like ants. From the small window she saw chain gangs in silhouette, as they passed pails of water, back and forth from the mouth of the Thames, trying in vain to suffocate the deadly flames. She could hear men yelling and screaming. The bridge and the buildings began to give way, unable to withstand the scorching attack. Great groans and whines came from the bridge, like a dying beast trying desperately not to collapse. Flaming boards and roof tiles dropped like comets into the water below, along with many poor, unfortunate souls. Yells and cries of panic screamed to the heavens as people watched fellow humans drop into the icy waters below. A cruel fate that both heat and cold could take a life so easily.

She turned away, eyes dazzled by the intense light from the fire, and quickly grabbed the wood and canvas umbrella, hoping it would act as a shield against some of the falling sparks. She stuffed bread, cheese and a shawl into her pack, and two of the small glass bottles. She couldn’t bear the thought of everything she loved being destroyed in the fire. Praying it wouldn’t reach her little home she quietly closed the door and stepped into chaos.