One spark was all it took. The tenement was stuffed with potential tender, the detritus from fifty years of abandonment. There was so much junk not all of it had been burned up before the fire crews got to it. There was more trash littering the ruins than there were parts of the building itself. Sad. He paused by it on his way home, early evening. Something in the ashes caught his eye. It looked just a little too clean, too new to belong, catching the setting sun. He stepped tenderly through the ruins, a cloud of ashes stirred up, caught by the wind. He brushed a pile of charred newspapers to the side, exposing more of the object. It looked like an oversize upside down soup plate, but quite a bit larger. The surface was brilliant white, seamless, cool to the touch. Like porcelain, almost. He picked it up, curiosity taking over. Amazingly light. He flipped it over, and saw writing on the other side.
“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you…”
He turned to find a man standing in the ashes, suit, tie and sunglasses.