Bells sound them from sleep, and their imaginations br rise, recite all they have been told: the curtains br br of fire, the beds, nightgowns, their hair, their hair. br They've practiced this escape before br br and know to close the windows last, descend br the darkened flights of stairs in practiced wordlessness br br to line up, barefoot, on the dew-wet lawn, br face the building, pretend to watch it burn.