On the other side of the street, Melinda's adopted dog, Tony, skulked along the way, keeping the same speed as mine, tongue pulled put and eyes fixed on me. And that was strange. It didn't want to cross the street; it just stalked me from a distance, based on a tacit agreement that we both knew what we were going to do next. I looked at the time: 17:53. I had checked the time prior to that when I was at the corner of the doctor's office and Corey's Grocery Store, when it was 17:50. We're ...