Saturday, November 23, 2024 Text is available under the CC BY-SA 3.0 licence.

Robb Wilton

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Woman: Do come along quick, there's a house on fire.
Fire Chief: A house on fire? Just a moment, lady – what's the address?
Woman: Grimshaw Street.
Fire Chief: Grimshaw Street – Grimshaw ... now wait a minute, I know it as well as can be, and I just can't place it.
Woman: Oh come along, it's only just round...
Fire Chief: No, no, no – don't tell me, let me try and think of it for myself. Grimshaw St–... oh, isn't that annoying, I could walk straight to it, and I can't think of it.
--
The Fire Chief

 
Robb Wilton

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We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it.

 
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On the bus going home I heard a most fascinating conversation between an old man and woman. "What a thing, though," the old woman said. "You'd hardly credit it." "She's always made a fuss of the whole family, but never me," the old man said. "Does she have a fire when the young people go to see her?" "Fire?" "She won't get people seeing her without warmth." "I know why she's doing it. Don't think I don't," the old man said. "My sister she said to me, 'I wish I had your easy life.' Now that upset me. I was upset by the way she phrased herself. 'Don't talk to me like that,' I said. 'I've only got to get on the phone and ring a certain number,' I said, 'to have you stopped.'" "Yes," the old woman said, "And you can, can't you?" "Were they always the same?" she said. "When you was a child? Can you throw yourself back? How was they years ago?" "The same," the old man said. "Wicked, isn't it?" the old woman said. "Take care, now" she said, as the old man left her. He didn't say a word but got off the bus looking disgruntled.

 
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We to a little ale-house on the Bankside, over against the Three Cranes, and there stayed till it was dark almost, and saw the fire grow; and, as it grew darker, appeared more and more, and in corners and upon steeples, and between churches and houses, as far as we could see up the hill of the City, in a most horrid malicious bloody flame, not like the fine flame of an ordinary fire. Barbary and her husband away before us. We stayed till, it being darkish, we saw the fire as only one entire arch of fire from this to the other side the bridge, and in a bow up the hill for an arch of above a mile long: it made me weep to see it.

 
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