Mack’s Walk

A chill is in the air and Mack’s hands are numb. He pulls his coat collar around his neck and shoves his hands deep inside his pockets. He’s looking forward to a hot cup of coffee when he returns home, the simmering heat soothing his stomach. A few more blocks and he’ll turn back.

“Hi Mack. Have you seen my cat Arty;” the boy asks. “He got loose today, and I can’t find him.”

“Sorry, no, I haven’t.”

Timmy rides his bike at warp speed, making Mack’s head dizzy. Then a gentle brush against his pants distracts him.

It’s Arty.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher