She stacked bottles and cans at the front door and back door every night before bed. She did it for years, so it seemed normal to us.
Things got troubling when she refused to leave the house because of the car parked out on the street. There were two men, she said. Smoking cigarettes and taking notes. There was no car parked on the street. She lived down a country road.
It broke my heart to have to force her into a home, but after we moved away there wasn’t anyone to help her. And she deserved to have help.
© 2023 Jeff E. Brown. All rights reserved.
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