THREE
I jerked the dogs toward me when I jumped back in surprise, my body intent on running away from the startling danger while my mind was determined to protect the innocent little pugs. Unfortunately, not being the most coordinated person in the world, I snagged the back of my gauze overshirt on a prickly arm of a blackberry bush, which in turn caused me to lurch forward, forcing my arm out in an arc, which ended when the loaded grocery bag struck the man smack-dab in the face.
He said something in a language I didn’t recognize as he recoiled from the bag, an almost comical look of disgust on his face. His nose wrinkled in a manner that I would have thought was adorable on someone less bent on scaring me half out of my life. “What the hell?” he finally said in English.
“That’s what I
