Ten Minutes at My Own Window
4 min read · Anonymous · Premium
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The thing I remember most is that I was holding the leash.
It was the kind of cold that makes the air taste like metal, the first real frost of the season, and our dog had wandered out into the back garden the way he does and refused to come when called. So I did what I'd done a thousand nights before. I grabbed the leash off the hook by the door, slid my feet into the boots I never bother to lace, and went around the side of the house to the patio to whistle him in.
That was the only reason I was out there. That's what I keep coming back to. If the dog had come when I first called, I'd still be asleep next to a stranger and not know it.
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