Fahrenheit 451: A Short Story

Montag sat by the blazing fire, filling every bone in his body with warmth, the same fire that he ran away from. He watched as the red and orange tails of the fire flickered upward, sending a smoke rising high above the clouds. The same fire, in which helped Montag destroy books, homes and much more, was now consoling him. He furrowed his brows, attempting to connect the book of Ecclesiastes to himself, as he did not understand how the intellectuals became a book, when a hard hand came down upon his shoulder. “Well aren’t you as scared as a bunny in a foxhole!” a sweet melodic voice said. Montag, knew that voice, It was the exact voice that drew him into reality, a voice of a dear friend. “Clarisse!” Montag Exclaimed. “You’re alive! I thought you were dead, run over by a car. But how-when-where…”, he stuttered. Clarisse simply smiled. Her face seemed brighter than ever before, with wild curiosity still caught in her eyes. “Do you remember my

Faber and others nodded along. “But how will we send the message?”.
“There is a manual control in the Salamander Fire House, which connects to all the other areas too. If you just speak into it, the message will be sent. The only question now is who will go?”
“I’ll do it”, Granger exclaimed. “They have nothing to suspect of me, but an old wanderer about the railroad tracks”.
The next few hours lagged by. Montag’s stomach twisted and knotted itself as the anticipation swelled inside him. Faber and Clarisse attempted to distract him, by reading books they had brought along, but even they seemed to fidget as the moment dawned. Finally, noise blasted from a far distance. The voices of hundreds of people chatting aimlessly as they walked diligently towards any transportation that would take them out of the bubble he once called home. From the other direction, the faint rumble of jets stuck to the back of his mind. It’s time, Montag thought, for a new era to