I wake up the next morning with guilt still heavy in my chest. I don’t even know why I feel this way, but the look on the firefighter’s face as he passed me remained ingrained in my mind all evening, twisting at my stomach uncomfortably every time I thought of it.
Instinctively, I reach for my cell phone. The screen illuminates, casting a pale glow over me as I check the time. It’s six am, another early start for me it seems. I click through to my messages, feeling an unexpected disappointment curl through me when I find no new notifications. There are no messages from the Firefighter which is weird . . . he has messaged me every morning since the twenty sixth about picking me up.
‘He’s probably still asleep’ I mutter under my breath to myself, putting the cell back onto the bedside tabl
