writing things down while making a pizza

It’s difficult to say what really happened or when exactly it happened. It was nighttime. I think it was winter. I was walking down a residential street in a part of the city I did not know, or maybe I was on the porch of an old 70′s style house. There was a lot of snow on the ground and it was fresh but tracks had been worn in the sidewalk so it was easy to pass. The house next to me was on fire and I could see the flames growing in the upstairs window. I called 911 but there was no answer, I called again and when someone did answer I had forgotten how to make words when I found them, I had forgotten how to read and could not tell the operator where the house was. A girl came from the burning house and screamed at me to get off the phone. That she did not want help to come.

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