The Chair He Bought, The Dog They Tried to Take, and the Choice

quiet. We don’t want to be a burden.

Then, a woman in her forties walked in. She was dressed sharply, holding a latte, scanning the room with the eyes of a hawk. She stopped in front of the leather chair.

Barnaby was fast asleep on it, letting out those soft, rhythmic snores that have been the soundtrack of my lonely nights for five years.

“This leather continue reading …