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The man waded through the knee-high snow, through the driveway, through the walkway, up the steps, and now the man was at the door.

He rang once.

I should open the door. He could be in trouble and needing help.

I should not open the door. He could be out to do mischief. Though it would not have made sense for him to ring if he was.

I stood breathless and undecided, just a few feet away from him, separated by the door.

Then he turned around.

And trudging through the snow tunnel he had created, he went down the steps, through the walkway, through the driveway, and now he was on the street.

Away from my house, letting me off the hook.

Who was that man, and what did he want? I hope he wasn’t in any trouble. On a day like this.

Photo courtesy of NOAA Photo Library

Weekly Writing Challenge: Lunch Posts

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