10
EMORY
I nudged the car door shut with my hip as I lugged two grocery bags and my purse from my parking spot, which, fortunately, I found on my block. It was all very tight parallel parking. It was almost eight, and the night was still hot. All I could think about was a shower, a simple dinner then a book. It had been a long day in the ER, punctuated by a stabbing, a family in a car accident and a guy with one too many personalities. I had two more days to go this week, so when the ambulance went by with the siren blaring, I was glad it was someone else’s turn to patch them up.
When I could see my house, the little boy from the other day and an older man were sitting on my steps. He appeared to be in his late fifties with salt-and-pepper hair, a full beard, wearing jeans and a Harley
