Wisdom stands at the turn in the road and calls upon us publicly, but we consider it false and despise its adherents. - Kahlil Gibran
The trickling sound of free-flowing water fills the confines of the living room.
A fixture, circular in structure with layers of rippling rings, rains down droplets from the ceiling to the floor.
Morph plays in the steady stream, cutting through the water with his wet paw.
The air is still, too still for comfort.
At the front door, my fingers wrap around the handle, rattling the brass knob. My eyes zoom in on the electronic lockbox and keypad.
The design is sleek. Touching the device makes my fingertips tingle.
Electrical currents hum under my palm. It would be easy to change the code and open the door. Contemplating my next move, I wonder what Vlad
