The Walk

I must be insane walking the streets at 3 o’clock in the morning, but I need to clear my head and the air helps.

A dog lunges at me from the alley nearly biting my ankle. It growls and leaves. I head toward my apartment since I wouldn’t get any thinking done after that.

I’m about to put the key in the door when a tap on my left shoulder startles me and I jump.

It’s my son Jameson.

“Dad, I want help, I need help.” His beseeching voice says.

I unlock the door and leave it open behind me.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher