Rain had soaked through her sweatshirt hours ago.
Her shoes made that squelching sound every step she took, but she persisted, one block at a time, hoping the next streetlight might offer warmth, or sustenance, or relief from the pain.
She hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning.
That half-slice of toast she’d discovered in a trash can behind the diner?
Consumed before noon.
She told herself the hunger would subside, but now it felt like something was tearing at her insides.
Her head swam.
Her knees faltered.
Then she heard it.
A soft, panicked whimper.
She turned and saw the tiniest puppy curled in the gutter, half its body saturated and shivering so intensely its ribs fluttered.
One paw was tucked awkwardly beneath it, as if it had fallen and was unable to move.
She should have continued walking.
She needed to continue walking.
Yet she knelt anyway.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, extending her hand.
“I’m lost too.”
The puppy did not resist.
It simply rested its damp muzzle against her hand as if it had been awaiting her.
She wrapped it in the one dry corner of her hoodie and cradled it close, even though her arms were trembling.
She did not know her next course of action.
The shelters were full.
The bus drivers no longer permitted her to ride.
The man outside the corner store had already forbidden her return.
Still, she began walking again—this time with the puppy nestled against her chest.
Then, precisely as she turned down the alley behind the old pharmacy, her legs completely gave out.
She impacted the pavement hard.
For a moment… she remained motionless.
The puppy emitted a weak yelp and nudged her cheek, as if sensing her decline.
Her eyes fluttered open, barely.
She let out a groan, attempting to command her arms to push herself upright, but her body refused to obey.
The world tilted sideways.
Then darkness crept in from the periphery.
She did not recall losing consciousness.
But when she awoke, the puppy was gone.
Her heart lurched.
She pushed herself to her elbows with a strength she didn’t know she possessed and called out, “Hey!
Hey, little one!”
Nothing but silence and the sound of drizzle tapping on broken pavement.
Tears welled in her eyes before she could stop them.
Not for herself.
But because for one brief moment, that puppy had made her feel less invisible.
And now it was gone too.
She curled back onto her side, wrapping her arms around her stomach to quiet its rumbling.
She did not weep.
She simply allowed the rain to strike her face as if it belonged there.
That’s when she heard footsteps.
Heavy ones.
Not the kind one disregards when accustomed to sleeping with one eye open.
She sat up rapidly, heart racing.
A man in his sixties stood there in a yellow rain poncho, a grocery bag dangling from one hand.
He resembled someone’s grandfather.
Not threatening, yet unfamiliar.
“Are you well?” he inquired, his voice low but not unkind.
She did not answer immediately.
Her mind raced.
Should she fabricate a story?
Request money?
Pretend she was merely resting?
“I… I simply fell,” she mumbled.
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