The Price of Safety: An Old Man, a Dog, and the Rules

I split the pain pill in half with a serrated steak knife, not because the doctor told me to, but because the refill costs more than my weekly grocery budget. That’s the unspoken math of staying alive these days: you trade an hour of pain relief for a bag of dog food.

At 5:30 AM, the house is freezing. The furnace …

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