As he sat down on his chair in the kitchen table, he read the latest newspaper, taking a sip out of his mug. From that moment, his wife had entered into the room. Her hair was that of a brunette, her eyes were of hazel, and that carrying an apron round her waist, with her garment hanging beneath. She had approached and gave him a kiss, as he'd leave to head back to work today. Grabbing his trench coat and hat, he'd leave the house and began treading in the snowfall. The city was filled with many lights and chimes, even at the hour of darkness it would illuminate the streets that became void. He entered a building and greeted one of his familiars, until heading for his office on the 3rd floor. Just as it became quite dark, close to 11, he was finishing up his paperwork to now return home for rest. The snow began to cease, and the walk back was made much easier than before. Upon gawking onto what was he to see, he staggered. .as there were smoke and flames that had lit up his own home. He'd rush for the door, breaking it down, searching for his wife amongst the ignited movables and rooms. He found her in the kitchen, the same place earlier that he had breakfast. He'd swoop her up, carrying her out of the fire and set her down on the ground, as he turned back to watch the house. . collapse. Things would never be the same after that night. . .eventually, the man couldn't keep up with his work and was thrown out of his business. Husband and wife became hungry, with only what money they had remained, with no house to serve as shelter. With no line of work for them, and every time they attempted to apply. .everyone would turn them down. Was this a dream? Was this real happening? Why him? Why now? A week had gone by, and they found an alleyway in the city. .settled down, finding anything useful to make a covering over their heads made from thrown-waste from bins. They slept together that night too, and the cement was hard, it felt different than drifting in their bedroom. When the sun raised, he took a paper-cup and a piece of cardboard, writing out the saying; "PLEASE HELP, WE'RE HOMELESS." Every-time he held up that sign, he expected someone out of the crowd to come, putting coinage into his cup. But that wish of a good Samaritan never came. He heard weeping beside him, it was his beloved. .in tears, for they lost everything since then. But. .he realized something in that moment, that hour, that minute and second, that nothing else mattered. . except one person in his life. Which is why then he took another piece of cardboard, writing out something new. . . Then he suddenly presented it to her with the best smile that he could give, with these letters spelling; "H O M E."