On our regular late-night walks through Sacramento streets, Bella and I pass through the intersection of Franklin and Second Ave. at least twice a week, so the recent murder of Kevin Marcus Johnson in his nearby home is more than a little disturbing.
Tonight felt creepy walking past. There was a man quietly sitting on the curb in the dark. Another man wearing a backpack with a frantically-flashing bicycle warning light mumbled hello and dragged a sleeping bag along the street and away from us. Then there were stray bits of spider silk floating through the air and landing on my face to enhance the creepiness.
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