When the going got tough, the tough got going. Andrew's original "going to" place was his old bedroom, the only area he could escape from the horrors of the outside world. When he was brought back to life, his shared room with Steve became his home, his haven. Until Andrew's friend introduced Andrew to his front porch. It was calm, isolated, and it had a beautiful view of the sky. The man liked to sit out there, just wasting the night away, pretending to be busy while he laughed and talked with Andrew. The two men learned each other through that porch, through the bees and moths and spider webs, through the jokes and crying. They understood. Andrew wondered if he could live on that porch, it was small yet convenient. Barely any wind, no storms, no rain. It was a shelter in so many different ways. It protected and gave, just like Andrew's room had. However this place couldn't hold hygiene products and dirty plates. In the winter, Andrew liked to stare out the windows, imagining what it would be like if the porch was accessible. It became a daily routine for the telekinetic, followed by a one-thousand piece bird puzzle, a winter walk on the streets, and some old movies. Andrew couldn't think of a place he loved more than this house he had managed to fall into. It was homey, beautifully furnished, and it had everything he needed. It offered a sense of peace, of a new life and a new chance. This place, and his new family, they were his new sanctuary. His new escape from the elements of terror in his life. And he was their escape, their go-to-guy. Unless of course, he had put up his small handmade "Telekinetic sleeping- don't wake me" sign on the porch. He didn't know what made the place so great. The chairs were rickety, bugs flew left and right. But that was the way of life. There would be bugs, mistakes and imperfections. He realized that as long as he was grateful, he would see the true unseen beauty in the porch the way other saw beauty in jem stones or hot people or worshipping a deity. As he made his slow descent to the porch, he took a breath, hoping to expel the pain of recent events out of his body and get last of the ash and dust out of his weary lungs. The porch wasn't going anywhere, and neither was he.