I tiptoed across the front porch, shivering in my thin denim jacket, while balancing a heavy suitcase in one hand and a purse on my shoulder. Summer had lingered longer than usual this year, but tonight, the air held an autumn crispness that made my breath rise in soft billows. Above me, the full hunter’s moon bathed the sky in a warm glow that illuminated the gravel driveway leading from the house to the road—all the better for making my escape. As I reached the edge of the porch, I paused to scan the yard for wandering coyotes. A pack recently had moved into the area, driving Pa crazy with their constant howling. The thought of them roaming nearby made my heart race, fearing they might start yipping and wake Pa. I had come too far to have them foil my escape. Thankfully, they were still tonight.
By Shirley Jones | Bowling Green