He didn’t stop until they were two blocks away. Breath heavy, chest burning, he dropped down near a lamppost. The street pulsed around him—cars speeding by, people moving fast with purpose. He held out his cup, kept his head low. A minute passed. Nothing. Five. Still nothing.
Joshua glanced down. Lucky wagged his tail, gave him that open-mouthed, stupid-happy dog look. No judgment. No shame. Just loyalty. Joshua reached out and scratched behind his ears. “At least you think I matter,” he muttered. It came out dry. Tired.