The Winter Night 2

The patrolman pulled away slowly from the drive through Black coffee hot, almost blistering his hand – but a comfort just the same He couldn’t remember it ever being this blustery in November Visibility was almost zero on the lonely street tonight His foot slammed the brake – what was that? A mangy mutt, his head down, scuttled out of the lane Carefully he guided his cruiser into the alleyway Half expecting to see her again, hoping not to The faint pink of her jacket coated in white powdery snow popped into his lights Foreign against the darkness and desolation of the abandoned building’s doorway He pulled slowly to a stop in front of her Going to the young girl he lifted her gently and carried her to his car She was not that much older than his own daughter Yet their lives were worlds apart Just another Saturday night on patrol If only he could go home…