Of course he wasn’t there…


The last time I saw Hector he crossed the field alone…

I sat on the deck again that night, as I did most nights in the weeks that followed his death.  Nursing a beer or three, staring off into the distance, to the grey, lifeless spot where his lifeless body had lain or into the still barren corn field.  Always to see him, just to see him…

And as the sun slid down the arch of the sky, I did see him, standing there across the road, on the very margins of the field.  His eyes caught mine, and he playfully lowered his front half, darted his head back and forth.  I heard his funny bark carry across the suddenly still air, and my heart ached with what I had to do, with what I couldn’t do.

Draining the beer, I walked across the yard to the road.  I saw him so clearly, perhaps the clearest I’d seen him since he’d died.  His eyes sparkled and his dark coat caught the fiery colors of the sun settling over the field.

I came to the edge of the road, stopped at my side.

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)