InsaneJournal

The large fire blazing atop over the trees was bright and hot, there was no way any of them would be able to put it out. Sure, the Doctor could have stopped it while it was still small, with those buckets of water the Cajun had sitting not far.. but he hadn't. And sure, the Mutant could have not set the fire in the first place.. but he had. He had to watch it burn, for many reasons. So standing there on the side of the road, with his little red Radio Flyer wagon, rusted and dull with age, he stared through the thin trees at the barn he'd called home for two weeks, engulfed in flame. In his little red wagon were three buckets of water, three empty buckets, a washing board (clearly home-made) and a few bottles of water. He'd made himself quite the nice little home there, but it'd had to burn.

In retrospect, perhaps he should have saved a few more things.. like his journal. Like the rope inside. Like his extra clothes.. his pillows.. his sheets. Standing there, staring at the fire decimate everything he'd collected over his stay here, the Cajun crossed his arms, ran his tongue over his teeth, then clicked his tongue once.

"Huh." That had been a bad idea.