Sirens tore down our street, then stopped before they receded into the distance. I peeked through the curtains, but coudn't see where they had halted. But I did see many of our neighbors heading in the direction the trucks had gone.
Seven giant firetrucks were parked on the street, a hose trailing over the ground from one truck, down the street and around the corner. The fire was down a narrow street where the trucks couldn't travel.
Tokyo is full of little streets and I imagine there are lots of instances where firetrucks can't get to their targets. But why did they bring three ladder trucks? They were over prepared.
The firemen themselves wore uniforms right out of a movie: soot-stained yellow suits with reflective bands; matching hats with a veil hanging down over the neck and ears; plus all sorts of accessories including oxygen tanks, masks and fire axes. They were quite impressive.
But, as it turns out, this was only a minor fire. By the time we arrived to gape with the other onlookers, the firemen were coming back up the alley towards their trucks. They carried their equipment, an empty stretcher, extra hoses. A scent of smoke wafted through the air, but it quickly dissipated. And so did the crowd.
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