Billows

I stood across the street from our house, roommates arms locked in mine as we watched the column of smoke billow up behind our house. 
"It's going to be okay." I whisper. Over and over again as we wait for the firetrucks to show up. "It's going to be okay." 
I knew the flames were back there. I knew that they were approaching our house. 
It was a race. Between fire and firemen. Who would reach our house first...and at the end....would we be homeless? 

-Inspiration from having our house nearly catch on fire.