The Park Maniac [hot] -

He found a flyer tucked under the windshield wiper of his car. But this one was different. It wasn’t handwritten on cardboard. It was a crisp, white sheet of printer paper. And on it, in a clean, elegant font:

* Dr. Elias Vane – Cognitive Restoration Therapy. “Wake up before you disappear.” the park maniac

Then, on a Tuesday, Waffles disappeared. He found a flyer tucked under the windshield

“I’m sorry about Waffles,” Dr. Vane said, tipping an invisible hat. “But you haven’t petted him with both hands in three years. He noticed. So did I.” It was a crisp, white sheet of printer paper

Arthur should have called 911. Every rational bone in his body screamed it. But the flyers had been warning everyone for weeks— he takes what you love most —and now the maniac had taken Waffles, who was less a dog and more a four-legged, tail-wagging piece of Arthur’s heart.

One moment, the dog was lunging at a squirrel near the rhododendron thicket. The next: silence. No jingle of tags. No joyful bark. Arthur called until his throat burned. He searched the ravine, the playground, the public restrooms. Nothing.

Arthur’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.