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Jack stood outside of his apartment complex with his non-burnt belongings in briefcases next to him. No other apartments were damaged, so Jack was the only one talking to the fireman who was writing down Jack’s account about what happened.

 

“You ever just have one of those days?” Jack sighed.

“Yeah,” replied the fireman, “like today, some idiot tried to dry his clothes on his heating duct and it ruined my entire day because I had go and put it out and stay there afterword to take his statement. How’s that for one of those days?”

“You don’t have to be such an jerk about it.”

“Such a jerk about it? Listen you ungrateful piece of shit, I just put out your apartment and instead of a thank you, I get called a jerk? You know, this job is stressful enough without people hounding me. And…and….”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t know firemen were so sensitive.”

“That’s okay. People forget you know, we’re people too. Even though we look strong on the outside, this job gets to you, you know?”

“Sure…”

Jack looked down at his two suitcases sitting next to him on the snow covered sidewalk. He was able to save some family photographs and most of his good clothes, but the rest was ruined. He didn’t even have time to take out his television, which was now too burnt to function.
“You okay bruddah?” Marion called out to Jack as he was walking towards him.
“Yeah, it’s just stuff right?”
“Haha, you got it mon.”
“The only problem is now I have to find another place to stay, and I don’t have enough for a hotel, so I’m probably going to end up at one of those six person rooms at one of the Westside hostels. They said its gonna take a month to fix up my apartment again.”
“Nonsense! You stay with me ‘til they fix your apartment.”
“Really?”

“Sure mon, s’long as you pay half the rent.”
“Haha, sure sure.”
“No, but seriously, you’re payin’ half the rent.”
“No worries Marion, I’ll pay half the months rent. I’ve never lived with a Rastaman before.”

"Bruddah, you in for a treat."
“Bruddah, you in for a treat.”