Three times today I passed this gate and the waiting package.
The first, during my morning jog. Registering the box, and the times we live in.
Shrugging off that initial concern, I went about my day.
The second was after work. My house, across the street.
It was unusual. Mrs Jacobs at 4376 was usually more onto things.
Taking Buddy for his walk made it three times, and I was concerned.
Approaching the gate, I punched the intercom.
Buzzed twice, three times. No answer.
Buddy tugged impatiently, slobbering, as I pulled my phone and called 911.