MY OLD HONDA PULLED into the dusty streets of Sunnydale, as the factory bell tolled the end of the day. Swarms of people headed towards their cars in the factory parking lot. I turned left and drove down Main Street, passed the bank, then the library, and the crumbling townhall. I continued down the tree-lined street until it came to an end at a small city park. The car quietly sputtered when the ignition was turned off. The sun, visible in the western sky, was a large red fireball hovering above the horizon. The sky was turning a magnificent orange color with pink streaks. Benny hopped out as soon as the door was open. He ran around, treeing squirrels with his beagle bays. I hauled an old quilt out of the car, spreading it out on the grass of a little knoll overlooking the sunset. I leane
