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  • Writer's pictureEva Nel Brettrager

I've Got Red in My Ledger

I live on the second floor of my apartment. The only way in or out is by one set of very menacing wrought iron steps. The steps lead to a small outdoor landing, which leads to an enclosed porch, housing the only entrance to my apartment.

I got home late from work, and just as I was about to put the key into my doorknob, I heard a noise inside that was not my beloved cat.

It was two men talking.

One of them asked, “Did you hear something?”

As quickly but silently as I could, I pressed my body up against the door. I have a peephole, you see, so I didn’t want them to see me. The closer to the door, the less likely they were to see me. My plan must have worked, because I heard them walking away.

I knew I needed to leave, but as I turned to exit back outside, I saw two massive ravenous raccoons.

So here I am, stuck between my door and my deck. Do I risk being attacked by the rabies ridden raccoons? Or do I wait for the thieves to finish their business and handle me how they will? Only time will tell.

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