I did not sleep much that night, lying awake and replaying every what if in my head. The house was quiet, yet my thoughts were loud and relentless. A simple batch of fries, a movie playing in the background, a forgotten plug left in the wall. That was all it took to make me realize how narrowly I had avoided disaster. I kept picturing how easily the outcome could have been different, how a few more minutes of heat or a slight electrical fault might have turned a normal evening into an emergency.
What unsettled me most was how ordinary it all felt. There was no dramatic warning, no sparks or alarms. Just routine, comfort, and habit. The air fryer had become part of my daily life, something I trusted without thinking twice. That trust, I realized, was misplaced. It was not the machine itself that scared me, but my casual attitude toward it. I had treated it like a harmless convenience rather than what it really is, a powerful electrical appliance capable of producing intense heat.
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