After spending several hours searching the remains of the burnt home, finding nothing, he turns to the wood remnants and begins to build a better shelter. Now hungry he begins searching the surrounding area for edible plants. Finding nothing of substance just a few meager berries eating them, hoping they arent poisonous, and drinks some water from the pump before sitting in his ramshackle made lean to.
Luckily the berries were not poisonous and many days passed, barely eating anything except the berries which were few and far between, they had another side effect however. During the nights he had very vivid dreams, more colorful than he had ever remembered having, of a place very similar to where he finds himself. During the day he mindlessly props rocks and wood within the remains of the home, not knowing why, only that he must.
Rain starts again and he hurries to his shelter, climbing under the makeshift lean to, he sits facing the partially covered opening. Staring out into the rain, he feels he is no longer in control of his body, he collapses into a trance the world fading away into darkness. Images flash through his mind and he finds himself in a waking dream.
Getting up from his bed he looks around, finding himself indoors, he hurries to the exit of the room. A hallway and stairs leading down, he now runs trying to get out of the place that he finds himself, he jumps the last few stairs and rushes out the open door. He takes no more than three steps before freezing in place, the water pump catches his eye, he turns toward it. This is the water pump that has kept him alive for the past few days, he wonders how this can be the same one, he turns to face where he came from. The home that had been burnt is now standing fully built and unharmed. Watching helplessly the home starts to melt away, first the walls, then various furnishings disappear. Pictures start to fade away, he runs trying to catch a glimpse, his mind absorbing all that he can see.
Grasping at the air, he wakes, holding onto a bit of tattered clothing that he hung up as a flap to the lean to. Minutes had passed by the look of the ground, still having the occasional dry patch, he closes his eyes recalling the last image he saw before waking. A painting hung on the wall, a family, he recalls thinking harder. Not being able to remember all of the faces of the family, but one, he remembers seeing himself.
Snapping open his eyes, he lowers his head thinking, "This was my home, I had a family here." he looks up and stares at the rain as it falls.
