Trumps of Doom
“ How long had I been away, anyhow? I hadn’t tried to reckon the time differential between here and where I’d been, but my car looked as if it had been standing exposed for over a month. It seemed intact, though. It had not been vandalized and . . .My gaze had drifted past the hood and on ahead. The building that had housed the Brutus Storage Company and the late Victor Melman no longer stood. A burnt-out, collapsed skeleton of the place occupied the comer, parts of two walls standing. I he...aded toward it.Walking about it, I studied what was left. The charred remains of the place were cold and settled. Gray streaks and sooty fairy circles indicated that water had been pumped into it had since evaporated. The ashy smell was not particularly strong.Had I started it, with that fire in the bathtub? I wandered. I didn’t think so. Mine had been a small enough blaze, and well confined, with no indication of its spreading while I was waiting.A boy on a green bicycle pedaled past while I was studying tie ruin. Several minutes later he returned and halted about ten feet from me. He looked to be about ten years old.“I saw it,”MoreLess
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