YOU’RE HOME

Only gone for a day. A few hours. For a quart of milk. And there they are, their bright, tongue-waggy faces at the window, at the door as it opens, their furry feet pawing at our pant legs in happy reunion. Luggage dropped. Laptop laid down. Milk set on counter. We’re on the ground, they’re in our arms. We’re theirs. They’re ours. We’re home.

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FRANKIE stands proud on his porch. He smiles into the sun and watches the white cat across the street.