The Fireman Essay, Part 6: Back to the Station

My name is Firefighter Bryan. I ride on the fire-van, clutching the ladder. One day, when I was poised like so while cruising down the street, looking for hints of glisteningness amid the passing scenery (the slightest glint could indicate that something is ablaze), my arms began to feel tired from having held on too long. Just consider how difficult it is to keep a firm grip on the rungs of a fire-ladder for hours on end, especially if you are (as I myself am) unaccustomed to spending all four seasons laboring on a farm. Luckily, however, we soon arrived back home at the Fire Station. This is always the fire-van’s last stop of the day. Until the next time there is an emergency, the fire-van remains parked here in the Fire Station’s garage.