He never showed up. I was stuck there, totally in the snow, with every single one of the troubles that he had abandoned with m,e. In a way, I felt that this had to be an inevitable eventuality, that I was to ultimately take care of all his dirty laundry throughout his life. Now he had dumped it on me, in the form of this property that every one of us had just purchased. Together, or so I had thought. I felt like I was meant to care for it in some sort of capacity, because what else is a person supposed to do with this abandoned building that they had just bought? Just when I surely felt myself becoming altogether overwhelmed with the sheer volume of things that needed to get done simply in order for this building to be restored, I heard it. I heard that glorious sound, followed by that all too glorious feeling. The sound was tumbling in the ductwork above, scattered along veins on the warehouse ceiling, followed shortly by hot air surging miraculously from each duct. In that moment, I thought to myself the reassuring thought: I can do this myself, regardless. I must have spent the majority of our time tending to that locale, alone knocking down walls as well as erecting new walls out of wood as well as plaster. I gutted the old, unnecessary pieces of the building. I ripped down ancient scaffolding that hadn’t been used in the last thirty years, as well as ancient rotted flooring that may once have been wood. I laid down hardwood floors. I put up as well as reinsulated each wall, redid each window, made sure of the entire structure’s integrity. All of this I did by myself because of the tumbling in the ductwork above, the heating reassuring me as well as comforting me when I needed it most. The HVAC system provided me a hot swathe of air in which to complete my task. With the oil furnace rumbling, I put the last piece of the building in its rightful locale. And he never did show up.