• Romeo and Juliet

    Fiction: Chance Encounters and Shakespeare

    It was almost serendipitous, the way I looked up from the sink just in time to see Mercutio running down the street. “Shit,” I muttered, dropping the lettuce I’d been cleaning and running out the front door, grabbing the leash from the hook as I left. Jogging after him, a quick glance behind confirmed that yes, the door had failed to latch after I unloaded the groceries. I really need to be more careful about that, I thought. Mercutio was not the kind of dog you wanted running around the neighborhood – he was the kind of dog you wanted when you were a single woman living alone at the…


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