I arose at 6:00 for a 3 mile run before work this morning, and things were proceeding normally. Feet hitting the pavement at 6:10. About a half-mile from my house, I noticed some awfully strange marks on the sidewalk. Awfully, indeed, as it turns out. I shook it off and kept running, thinking it was just the incomplete light of morning. On the return trip about 15 minutes later, though, it was pretty clear. There were about 15 bloody footprints on the sidewalk. Barefoot footprints of fully dried blood. Not just like somebody had sliced their foot on glass like Bruce Willis in Die Hard, because there were some pretty big splatters, too. It was bad enough that I called the police as soon as I got back to the house. The dispatcher thanked me and said they were actively working the case. I was glad that they were already on it, and that I hadn't just left somebody bleeding in the bushes for an extra 15 minutes while I finished my run, but I also wonder if "actively working" means they haven't caught the perpetrator in our area.
The lesson, as always: Snitches get cut.
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