“We leave in five minutes,” he said.

Grey hairs muzzled out of his nostrils like worn felt. He smelled like ammonia. A holstered Leatherman dangled from his belt.

He was my last chance.

I glanced past him, at the smoke rising from the snowy yard.

“I can’t go,” I said.

Sean Higgins lives in an old farmhouse in Ypsilanti, Michigan with his wife and three insane cats. He works as an editor for a Research Firm. His work has been published in Bartleby Snopes.