I must have knocked for a good four or five minutes. First the basement door. Then the front door. She was watching TV but I couldn’t get her attention. No doorbell either. Finally I walked to the back door praying she didn’t have a large dog chained on the back deck. I knocked again. She and her poodle startled and started walking to the door wearily. In that moment, I wondered how many poor souls had been bludgeoned or shot to death because of Carrie Underwood’s song, “The House That Built Me.” I hoped she didn’t have a gun.
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