Chapter 5
Early Monday morning, not long after the sun began to come up, twinkling off of the frozen snow on the ground and creating a myriad of diamonds, Brady found himself all alone in the park, the same one in which he’d chased Pooch just a few days ago. This time, he was here for work, but he was glad to have a few moments to sit on a bench and reflect. It wasn’t the same bench where Mrs. Snow had captured the furry thief, but that one was within eyesight. Instead, Brady had chosen a bench nearer to a copse of cedar trees, an idea in the back of his mind trying to bring itself together, to form into something coherent. It was there--it just wasn’t ready to articulate itself yet.
This was his process. Sitting alone in the quiet, often in the morning or at dusk, taking in nature, and
