Is This a Good Idea?

This city had started as a campfire. None of us would be here when it ended. The modest size of our houses, the tree boxes by the street, the front porches so close to the sidewalk was all by design and it worked. I walked right past Denny or Danny, who had fallen down the stairs, drunk on Thanksgiving, and gone to the ER in an ambulance. My lungs opened at the thrill of hating him, and I imagined all kinds of things.