The Dogs Next Door
I first noticed Sarah because of the dogs. Not one or two, but a whole bunch of them, maybe eight or ten, ranging from what looked like a terrier mix to something that might have been part wolf. They were always there, in her backyard, pacing the fence line like prisoners counting the days. I'm Frank. I live next door. I'm forty-five, I used to work at the steel plant before it closed, and I...
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