“I don’t know. There’s a shed out behind the house. Maybe I can stay in there for the night and figure things out in the morning.” He tried not to think of the fact that he had no family and now he had no place to live and was going to try to stay in the shed. It was the only idea he had, and at least he’d be out of the rain. “Thank you for coming and for saving Taffy.” That was what was truly important. Stuff he could replace, but the one friend he knew he could count on was the only irreplaceable thing in the house. He stepped down out of the ambulance, grateful they’d let him keep the blanket, and headed around the side of the burned-out shell of a house.

The scent of char and scorch along with the dampness from the rain hung in the air. He hurried to try to keep dry. Dash heard the firefighters packing up as he reached for the door of the shed. Without looking back, he pulled it open and stepped inside. It was mostly empty, with a few folding chairs and one of those old beach lounges with wide woven straps. He set that up and then spread the blanket over it before stretching out, tugging the blanket over himself like a cocoon. At least he was dry for the time being. That he could be grateful for at least.

“Hello,” a deep voice called from outside. “Are you in there?”

Dash thought of not answering and just closing his eyes, willing this nightmare to be over and all of this to just go away. “Yes,” he answered softly before the door opened. The firefighter from earlier, Stone, stood there, shadowed from behind in the light from the trucks.

“You’re really going to stay here?” he asked.

Dash shrugged. “I don’t have much choice. The stupid insurance company isn’t going to help, and I can’t afford a hotel right now. Besides, it’s that big festival in town. All the hotels have been booked for months, and there’s nothing that isn’t going to cost a fortune.”

Stone came inside, and Dash could see some of his features. “Then you can come home with me for the night. I have a sofa that you can use. It will be more comfortable than this loungie thing, and I can try to find you something to wear.”

Dash was tempted to say no, thank you, but his lounge, which had seen many better days, decided to give up the ghost right then and dumped him onto the floor in a heap. He rolled and bashed his hand against the floor. He stayed still until he could figure out how to get up without hitting anything else.

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Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation.