Standing in the doorway behind Steve that morning was a young woman clad in a thin cotton t-shirt. Her blonde hair stuck out from her head in all directions and her eyes were swollen and red. Even disheveled and half awake she made him wonder why he was going to work. He pulled her close and kissed her, then sauntered across the deck. She smiled, waved goodbye, and closed the door.

Coffee cup in one hand, a copy of the Mobile Register in the other, Steve moved down the steps on the far side of the deck to the driveway. At the bottom step he paused and took a sip of coffee. A gentle breeze tousled his hair. He lingered a moment.

Beyond the deck, the driveway separated the house from a white frame three-car garage. To the left of the garage, a long wooden pier extended several hundred feet into the bay. Weathered and gray, it seemed to float on top of the water in the morning haze. At the end of the pier was a boathouse. Weathered like the pier, it rose above the water like a gray ghost. Its darkened windows looked like eyes and the gentle motion of the waves made it seem as though it swayed from side to side.

Out past the boathouse a small boat bobbed on the water. Two men, one in either end of the boat, appeared to be fishing. Steve watched for a moment and took another sip of coffee.

Further to the left, beyond a tiny patch of dark green lawn and the brick wall at the edge of the property, his neighbor’s pier stretched into the bay. Midway down the pier was a small bathhouse. As Steve sipped from the coffee cup, something near the building caught his eye. He glanced in that direction, scanned along the pier, then turned away.

He sipped from the cup again and watched as seagulls circled overhead. Near the end of the pier, a pelican tucked its wings and dove headlong into the water. Steve smiled to himself, took another sip of coffee, then started across the driveway toward the garage. Holding the newspaper in front of him, he glanced at the sports section between sips as he walked.

In the garage, Steve opened the door to a red BMW and sat down behind the steering wheel. He closed the car door and reached above his head to the sun visor for the garage door opener. His fingers found it without taking his eyes from the newspaper. Mindlessly, he pressed a button on the opener. An electric motor overhead began to hum as it lifted the door. The door rattled and rumbled as it slid along the tracks in the rafters above the car. He took one more sip of coffee and finished reading an article, then tossed the paper onto the seat beside him. He placed the key in the ignition and turned it.

In an instant, the building erupted in a huge explosion. Thick, black smoke billowed into the sky, followed by a giant, rolling fireball. Pieces of the roof shot into the air above the fire and smoke. What remained of the garage was engulfed in flames.