“Well, I suppose I’d better get home and see what trouble those boys have gotten themselves into!” Shannon excused herself from our hour long conversation in the summer breeze my front porch seems to catch.

When she first started coming over to chat, I thought she was just trying to be neighborly, but when it became a regular thing, I decided she must be lonely; the only lady in a house full of boys. Maybe she knew one day soon she’d be a lonely spinster like me and wanted to have a friend.

My hip began aching as I watched her leave, hand in her pocket, reaching for her house key, I assumed. I kept my pills near me, closer than my medic alert bracelet some days, and today I had set them on the little table between our chairs on the porch.

Hand halfway to the table, I stopped. My pills were gone. Before I could attempt to lean over and look under my chair, it dawned on me. Shannon’s boys were grown up now, and no one was home. She wasn’t reaching for her keys, she was holding my pills!

“Shannon!” I yelled

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