Danny

The firehouse siren is going off as I pull into the drive with the groceries. Over the intercom, the automated voice is telling us where to go.

Adrenaline.

The greatest high I've ever gotten. It flows through my veins as I hear the address of the emergency. My hands shake as I put the truck in park and kill the engine.

Engine one, ambulance three, report to fifteen sixty-eight Red Bird Street. Report of smoke in the kitchen of Sal's Soup.

My feet ...