Clutching his head, planting it inthe space where the pillow had just been, he cried, "Shelly... Beth...Oh God Gary...." In his head thoughts flickere... and died like floating embers from asummer night campfire, hot and alive but for a brief time before breezeburned their fuel away and carried them off into the night. Most were aconfused mess, half remembered dream state shadows of something Mikefelt were terribly important but when he turned his attention to themthey flickered out of sight. The. It was just the family and the men who had returned early from the roundup pens at first. Hardly enough to stretch from the windmill driven tank, where there was a good supply of water, if they only could get it from there to the house. The blazing inferno lit up the night sky, sending a beacon out to the dusty prairie, telling the tale of destruction.The wind wasn’t helping. The embers from the conflagration were whipped up and carried aloft by the natural tendency of heat rising off a fire.. More

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