I rolled over and smacked the alarm. That didn’t shut it up. I smacked it off the side table. Crap! I’ll be buying another one of those. Godfrey lay in his usual spot, protecting the end of my bed. The damn dog thought he was human.
“Get up, Godfrey. Time to go outside.” His eyes barely opened. I walked to the bathroom. Just because he didn’t have to go, didn’t mean I didn’t. When I returned to my bedroom, Godfrey was gone. I walked to the kitchen. Godfrey sat by the door. He looked at me, then at the door.
“You need to learn to open this yourself.”
Something on the lawn caught my eye. I put on a pair of boots I kept by the door, and walked down the short flight of steps to the yard. What the hell? Godfrey came over and sat next to me. It looked like a balled up T-shirt with brown spots all over it. I nudged it with the tip of my boot. It fell open. What the fuck?
“Leave it! Stay!” I turned and ran inside.
The police arrived an impressive 10 minutes later. I chalked that up to my proximity to the university and hospital. Body parts in a yard can cause a bit of concern, especially if you’re near either of those two places.
My day was clearly getting off to the wrong start. Who the hell leaves a severed hand in someone’s back yard? It’s not like they tossed it over the fence. It was positioned so that I’d see it when I looked out the window, or opened the door. Shit, I haven’t been back in Omaha long enough to have pissed off anybody but family. I mulled all this over as I ate breakfast. Yeah, I could still eat a little something.
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