As I was reading at the dining room table, I heard a car and then my husband’s voice. “Strange,” I thought. “Maybe Dan ran into someone he knew while he was out on his run.”
So I kept reading, only to be horrified when I saw Dan walk in the front door. His right eye socket, left hand and knee and white wicking running shirt all were covered in blood.
“Oh, no,” I cried. “Oh, no. Dan, what happened?”
Dan dabbed his eye with the blood-soaked blue napkin he received from the kind stranger who gave him a ride home. He was trying to calm himself and me down...