We recently published Claudia Monpere’s searing “Why I Didn’t Immediately Load the Car When My Husband Texted the Fire Was Getting Closer.”

Here, we ask her two questions about her story:

1) I love how this starts out with the narrator seeming to be panicked and indecisive, then gradually reveals that maybe, maybe, there was a bit of intent in her hesitation all along. Do you think she could ever consciously admit to it?
At some future time the narrator might consciously admit to some intent in her hesitation. She’s faced with the urgent decision about what to save. But she’s unable to decide because she’s frozen, obsessing about what her husband would want her to save. How can she avoid his anger for not saving the “right” possessions? His suits, his mother’s paintings, his collections. He’d probably be mad she didn’t pack the skeleton! She gives only the briefest thought to the children’s toys. No thought to her own possessions. And along with fear of her husband’s anger, she’s exhausted from mothering and in pain from a nipple infection. Subconsciously, she may know that hesitating means there’s time to save only her children and pets. Years ago during a huge wildfire, I had to quickly evacuate my home with my two small children on a day my husband was working. No creepy skeleton in the house, but a deeply unhappy marriage. I left with only the children, two of my mother’s paintings, and our pet rat, Tasha. The house never burned.

2) This story really focuses on all the things that weigh us down, from belongings to duties that cause discomfort to relationships that don’t always work the way we want them to. Do you think, after all this burns, our narrator will feel lighter?
I think there’s a huge lightness that comes from truly understanding that what matters isn’t objects but people, relationships. (I’m assuming, of course, that basic needs for food, shelter, clothing, etc. are met.) I  think our narrator will feel traumatized at first when everything burns. Comforting her children, finding temporary housing, dealing with finances and insurance, navigating her difficult marriage: overwhelming. But if she finds the courage to throw off the weight of her husband, to end this marriage–I hope it was clear that her husband has narcissistic behavior— then I picture her, her children, and pets in an apartment or small rental house. Fewer possessions, a much more modest lifestyle. And she’s stunned by the lightness she feels. She could float.