The Burning Bed

No, this isn't a post about a Farrah Fawcett movie, my bed actually caught fire Friday morning, or at least my pillow did. Jayne was out of bed already and I had turned on my reading light and planned to snooze for a few minutes before getting up. I was laying there relaxing when I heard a crackling and snapping sound. I turned my head in a start and was surprised to see the corner of my pillow had been ignited by the bulb of my reading light. In a daze I grabbed the pillow, threw it on the floor, jumped out of bed and stomped on it until the fire was out. Luckily, nothing was damaged beyond the pillow, but it was a scary event that only gets scarier the more I think about it. Had I gotten up and been in the shower when the pillow ignited, my house might not be standing now, not to mention what could have become of Jayne, Cori or me. Scary stuff. The really weird thing is I recall a dream that night where I stomped out a fire.

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