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September 23, 2004

Fine White Powder

While I was cooking last night, Yuka commented that I was producing a lot of smoke. Our apartment has no smoke vent over the oven, so that sometimes happens. But it doesn't happen when I'm boiling water for pasta. It was stranger than usual too, because when I went out of the kitchen the smoke got a bit thicker.

We'd heard fire trucks outside about 10 minutes before, but that's usual, seeing that there are 7 apartment buildings on our street and Ontario College of Art & Design across the road. If the alarm doesn't go off, you know it is something in another building.

Yuka opens the door to the hallway, just enough to engage the safety lock, letting in fresh air, and I continue cooking. Neither of us are perplexed.

I finish cooking and go to wipe off the oily film on my glasses. That happens when I'm frying things. But the haze is there when I take my glasses off. And things finally reach conscious level. I go to the door and open it, and the entire hallway is filled with white powder and dust. just as I do it, a security guard with a couple of fire men shout at me to close the door and keep it closed. But they don't look too freaked out. There are white foot prints up and down the hall. I go back in the apartment, open the balcony door, crank up the air conditioning and we have dinner, admiring the fine white powder on the table.

After dinner I go to have a look again, and there's a security guard still there. Yuka is on the balcony and says that the fire trucks have gone. I ask the guard what's up. "Someone set off fire extinguisher(s). We have called to have it cleaned up, and people are coming." I couldn't be sure how many extinguishers, but one was enough. I could still see it laying at his feet, though I assume he didn't do it. And the evening continued.

Posted by jason at September 23, 2004 08:12 AM


spoke is a sign of a great mine!

Posted by: stef at September 27, 2004 04:38 AM