Saturday morning cartoons and the smell of sausage frying in the kitchen were disrupted by a very loud thump, thump and thump.
There she laid at the bottom of our basement stairs. Writhing in pain with one hand up by her face and the other pinned under her crumpled body. She was laying perpendicular to the steps, facing us awkwardly, her face to the side and pressed flat against that cold cement floor.
Our eyes met, she immediately saw the panic in my face as I instantaneously recognized the pain in hers. Continue readingShare this to: