I Asked a Bleeding Biker on the Curb if He Needed Help and He Said Save My Dog

I will ever remember from that day.

“Daddy sent you. Daddy said you’d come.”

I stood there with my hands in my pockets and I thought about a Saturday night at a Shell station off Exit 92.

I thought about a man slumped against a dumpster, beaten so badly his own brothers didn’t think he’d live. I thought about a dying biker grabbing my jacket with one continue reading …