James had a lot on his mind. He'd always been one to think too hard on things that worry him. Following orders wasn't easy for him, when a voice inside kept asking questions. His pencil swirling under the tip of his index finger, he had to find a way to make this right. James grimaced as he placed one hand on his temple and tried in vain to rub his frustration away, no matter how long he thought, his conscience would not let him focus long enough for a solution to form in his mind. He had always been plagued by what he liked to call 'analysis paralysis' but this was just getting ridiculous.
A welcome distraction, the door bell rang. He glanced at the clock. It was 3.31 PM and, curiously, as much as it is said that "time flies when you're having fun" several hours had gone by without him noticing and he most certainly had not been having fun. He threw down his pencil and dragged himself to the door. Jules? At this hour of the day? well, this could be just the kind of distraction he'd been looking for. He was walking now with a kind of swagger as he approached that cottage paneled oak door, already he was getting into the cocky persona he always tried to project when being around Jules. James, could see through the small window situated in the center of the door that it was raining outside, although at this angle it was still impossible to see if this actually was Jules.
When the door burst open it was not Jules but her husband who came crashing in with a frantic look on his face. He had never seen her husband in person up until this point, and now, here he was. He was shaking with nerves with sweat running down his face, he stumbled over his words as he tried to tell James something quite urgent. "Jules has told me everything James, all of it, all your secrets, and now.. oh my god what have I done?"
A welcome distraction, the door bell rang. He glanced at the clock. It was 3.31 PM and, curiously, as much as it is said that "time flies when you're having fun" several hours had gone by without him noticing and he most certainly had not been having fun. He threw down his pencil and dragged himself to the door. Jules? At this hour of the day? well, this could be just the kind of distraction he'd been looking for. He was walking now with a kind of swagger as he approached that cottage paneled oak door, already he was getting into the cocky persona he always tried to project when being around Jules. James, could see through the small window situated in the center of the door that it was raining outside, although at this angle it was still impossible to see if this actually was Jules.
When the door burst open it was not Jules but her husband who came crashing in with a frantic look on his face. He had never seen her husband in person up until this point, and now, here he was. He was shaking with nerves with sweat running down his face, he stumbled over his words as he tried to tell James something quite urgent. "Jules has told me everything James, all of it, all your secrets, and now.. oh my god what have I done?"
Are you ready for the fire? We are firemen. WE ARE FIREMEN! The heat doesn’t bother us. We live in the heat. We train in the heat. It tells us that we’re ready, we’re at home, we’re where we’re supposed to be. Flames don’t intimidate us. What do we do? We control the flame. We control them. We move the flames where we want to. And then we extinguish them.
Impersonation is treason.
