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Wednesday, July 4, 2012

A New Friend


His horror grew as he walked through the wealthy suburb that had long been his neighbourhood. He passed homes of friends and colleagues where decaying bodies drooped like grizzly decorations from windows and balcony rails. He passed houses razed to the ground, where the smell was so overwhelming he gagged, hurrying away as fast as he was able. Bloodless heads spiked on a fence, blackened hands and feet strewn like flowers in a patch…he soon learned not to look. Staring at his feet, he walked on. Of course his feet encountered trophies also, thank god for the boots, but he forced himself on, ever on. Away.
No one alive. It was silent, empty of human sound…gods, what evil had befallen their world?
A dog startled him, barking from behind a wrought iron fence to his right and he stopped dead and stared at the animal. It was small and hairy, a child’s beloved pet- he was so surprised to see anything alive that almost it undid him. Swallowing convulsively, he lifted his gaze from the yapping, pitiful creature- the house further back was burnt, a blackened shell. A bright blue tricycle lay discarded on the trampled lawn…oh, dear lord. The dog, soot encrusted and smelly, could not escape its prison. It would starve…and die…slowly. No. Marcus cried as he struggled with the gate…had to let it out, it was as hungry and as lonely as he was and did not deserve its fate. The dog sat silent, watching, waiting, its tail periodically wagging, as, cursing, he fought the latch. Open! The poor animal came warily, but when Marcus knelt to scratch in his food bag it ran over to sit before him, black eyes flicking from bag to man, man to bag, tongue hanging out…
He sat down hard in the road and let tears come. Muttering nonsense through them he drew out water, the cup, and one of the containers of crackers. Neither of them, he suspected, would stomach more. Crying and speaking to the dog just to hear his voice, glad to hear the humanness, ridiculously happy to see the dog perk its ears at the sound, he shared the water, the dog drinking greedily from the cup, and then shared the crackers. One for the dog, one for him, one for the dog, one for him…until between them they finished it. He reached out and scratched behind its ears and it licked his hand…and a friendship was born.
Marcus stood, hefted his load and walked on. He did not call, said not a word, but he did not chase the dog away either. He smiled down as it trotted along at his side, and nodded. You and me, pal, just you and me.


Animated Spirit

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