6:11 P.M.

 

Six o’clock is a shit time to start a shift, but what else can you expect from a second job. At the very least they could take the parental locks off of the lab computer - I’m twenty-two I should at least get to watch Fleabag while I pretend to have enough to do. I would even take a window to spend my time staring through, anything to break up these white walls, but being on the basement level I’m once again out of luck. I swear the dust off of these pipes is plugging every pore on my beautiful skin. Why do I bother? Why do you bother Linda? I really could use a fucking answer to-

 

The phone rings. Linda lifts it from the cradle to her ear, not even attempting to stifle her sigh.

“IT office, Linda Carlisle speaking.”

 

“Hi Linda, this is Howard Rose.”

 

Is that supposed to mean something to me?

 

“Hiya Howard. Did you try turning it off and on?”

 

“What? No, this isn’t about a computer. I’m the Fire Marshall for your floor.”

 

            And………..

           

            “Where’s the fire?”

 

            “No fire at the moment, ma’am, but we are running some tests on the alarm system this evening.”

 

Great job Linda! You really hated the peace and quiet of this six by six office didn’t you?

 

“What should I be prepared for Howard?”

 

“We have three tests scheduled, ma’am. At the time of each test you can expect the strobes to activate. Shortly thereafter, the alarm will begin to sound. It’s a typical series of siren bursts. ”

 

“What is expected of me?”

 

“You just hang tight. Each test should be over after about two minutes total, give or take.”

 

“Any idea of the timing of these tests?”

 

“The first should begin at six thirty sharp, with the two subsequent tests following after a short break of several minutes. Probably fifteen to twenty minutes total.”

 

Fucking teriffic.

 

“Just to be clear, in the event of an actual fire, what do I do?”

 

“Proceed down the hallway, take the stairs to the first floor, the exit will be at the top on the right.”

 

“Sweet deal. Anything else?”

 

“No ma’am. Take car-”

 

Linda returns the receiver to its perch. Sinking in disgust, she eyes the alarm fixed upon the wall above her head. Above that, she discovered something else. Written, or rather stamped, in red letters upon the plain white paint read three words: ONE-HOUR-FIREWALL

 

Well, you wanted some color, didn’t you Linda? What kind of red is that I wonder? Not deep enough to be blood. Not bright enough to be cherry.

 

6:55 P.M.

 

            The alarm siren blares in short bursts, as described. Linda burning holes with her gaze upon the computer screen. Slowly, her forehead tilts until it finds itself parallel with the desktop. Gently she dips until it makes contact, awkwardly resting in place. With a final whine, the siren at last dies out.

 

            That’s three. About fucking time. A few more seconds and I…

 

            All at once the alarm springs back to life. The strobe resuming its frantic pulse of pure white white. Linda looks ready to snap.

 

            No! This is utter bullshit! You said three Howard! NOT FOUR! What happened to people being fucking honest with one another, I swear to God when I get my hands on you Howard I’m going to wrap my fingers around your neck so tight - neck? How do I even know you have a damn neck Howard? For all I know you don’t even have a body, maybe you just live in the phone! Or in the fire alarm! Whatever the case I will still find a way, I will make it my life’s work to get you that neck you so desperately need so I can give it the wringing it so definitely deser-

 

            The phone rings, or perhaps has been ringing behind the incessant wailing of the alarm. Linda snatches it roughly, bringing the speaker to her mouth.

 

            “IT office, Linda Carlisle speak…”

            “Good God, you are still inside!”

 

            “Howard?”

 

            “Linda did you not hear the alarm going off?”

 

            “Yeah, but you said you were testing tonight.”

 

            “We were. Three tests! Remember?”

            “So this is…”

            “Linda put down the phone and get out. Down the hall, stairs, exit. Do it now!”

 

            Linda drops the phone, flings open her office door to find the hallway totally full of smoke. Turning left she spotted the source. The walls of pure white were now walls of flame. The deep brown hues of soot and ash alive with wild yellows, ablaze with orange, the door practically invisible behind it all. So close, yet so out of reach. At that moment Linda turned back toward her office, the flash of the strobe just barely resonating through the haze. Linda could just spot the letters above it. Letters spelling: ONE-HOUR-FIREWALL

 

            I know what that is. It’s fire engine red.

 

Linda reachs behind her, softly closing the door. Climbing under her desk, she tucks herself into a ball, and waits to be saved.

 

One hour passes.