Brown patches over the yard were all Clay needed to tell
him rain was long overdue. There was some brush fire stories in the paper, saw
a news show on the TV about fires across the county. But Clay didn’t give
himself over to worry about that kinda thing. He spent Sunday painting the back
porch and was in bed early. He woke up with Butch barking like crazy, the room
a hot reddish glow. The window showed tall flames crawling up on him and his
dog.
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