These are name bran..." "Nah, it's alright, just try them on. I'll return them if they don't fit you," she smiled, keeping her arm extended. "Well, wo..., thanks a lot! I'll try them on." I took the bags and closed the door. As soon as she drives off, I see my dad sitting on a chair on the porch. As I walk closer to him, I notice the Jack Daniel in his hand. My heart sinks. My dad isn't an alcoholic, but he does drink a lot when he's in a bad mood. I wonder what happened at work today that upset. Glowing brightly against the contrast of night, wall beams and rafters lay exposed like the ribs of a desiccated cadaver. Flames threw a searing heat painfully against his face, sucking the moisture from his eyes, yet he could not look away. He could not move. Even as the walls toppled upon themselves and his life crumbled into sparks and smoke–still his eyes refused to turn away. He was alone now, left to dine on ash covered memories. Wade’s sight rippled, clouded. A dense draft of smoke. More

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