The drunk teenager called me a deaf old man and tried to smack my scarred service dog. I slowly unclipped the brass leash.
PART 2 The heavy-set kid with the serrated knife blinked. The sweat on his forehead caught the sickly fluorescent light of the bus cabin. He looked at the blade in his hand, then at the old man, then at the dog. He was waiting for someone to flinch. He was waiting for the moment of…
