FRITZ HAD TOLD his mother he"d try to make it home for Thanksgiving. Home? This is home. This is where Thanksgiving should be. Fritz gazed out the kitchen window, a cup of coffee in front of him. By the backyard bushes, fluttering wings displayed a fierce battle, as the sparrows held on in the brisk wind. I"ve got to go back to work. A strong gust tried again to chase the birds from the bush. As he raised the cup to sip, a squirrel looked in, an acorn in its paws. I can"t stay here. I need the noise. I need the distraction.
FRITZ HAD TOLDHome? This is home. This is where Thanksgiving should be.I"ve got to go back to work.I can"t stay here. I need the noise. I need the distraction.He grabbed his jacket and walked out the front door. Driving made his stitches rebel if he bent his knees too
