I Panicked When I Found A Biker Sleeping On My Porch Until I Saw The Note In His Hand!

The 5:00 AM light was a bruised purple, the kind of cold dawn that makes you want to retreat back into the warmth of sleep. I had stepped out onto the porch in my slippers to retrieve the newspaper, but my foot caught on something heavy and yielding. I nearly tumbled over a man curled against my front door. He was a massive figure, clad in road-worn leather and smelling of gasoline and old rain. His gray beard was matted with dried blood, and his breathing came in shallow, rattling gasps.

My first instinct was a cold, sharp panic. I reached for the door handle, intent on locking myself inside and dialing 911, but then I saw his hand. It was huge, calloused, and stained with grease, clutched tightly around a crumpled piece of paper. In shaky, bold ink, the note read: “Mrs. Elizabeth Chen – PLEASE READ BEFORE CALLING POLICE.”