You awaken to a siren heading toward you. You’re terrified.
It’s in the distance, but headed in this direction. You search the memory banks. Do ambulance sirens sound different than fire trucks? Cop cars? Ice cream wagons? You don’t know. All you know is it’s a siren, and it’s coming this way.
You’re in bed. That can’t be good. Dammit dammit dammit dammit dammit. Why didn’t you sleep on the couch, within earshot? Did you really think you’d be able to hear from the bedroom? damn damn damn.
You sift through the cobwebs. Did you hear anything? No. Wouldn’t there have been a sound? Maybe. But the new gizmo allows for a distress call directly to the authorities. If a bear falls in the woods and nobody stayed close enough to hear, does it make a sound?
Is he OK? Did you just sleep through the very thing you’re supposed to be protecting against? You have no idea.
You spring out of bed. And realize. You’re back home. 350 miles away.
The siren goes by. Somebody else’s tragedy. Sorry.
You go to sleep to a siren heading away from you. You’re still terrified …