“IT’S JUST TRASH, GET OUT OF THE WAY!” They screamed as I ran into the highway to save the puppy they threw out the window. Now that little dog is my only reason to keep living after my wife died.
The air horn blasted inches from my ear, and I instinctively dove forward, tucking my chin to my chest as the Peterbilt roared past. Gravel sprayed, and the acrid smell of diesel fuel filled my nostrils. I scrambled to my feet, heart hammering against my ribs, and stared back at the ribbon of asphalt stretching…