Promises
Promises
“I should have seen it coming, Spot.”
The dog wriggles his tail, looking in the man's eyes; his brown, trusting eyes meet the man's for a moment before something else catches the animal's attention. The man rubs the thick fur behind the dog's ears, earning another happy wriggle.
“We should have seen it coming, Spot, and we should have done something,” the man continues, speaking to no one particular, except the dog. They are sitting by the lake, its shores empty, just as empty as the man's insides feel. “I should have done something...” His voice trails off as another memory washes over him, uncalled and unwanted.
“You have to understand. I can't... I can't be here. It feels like I'm suffocating.”
He sighs, a soft smile reluctantly appearing on his face when the dog licks his forearm. “I can't understand. What did I do wrong?”
Another memory flashes. “There is nothing wrong with you. You made no mistake. It's me, I... I just need to get away.”
“Why did she just leave me like that? This place, this house and garden that I made for her, it's... just a thing now. Not home, not anymore.” The man's voice sounds quiet, composed, although on the inside he feels like screaming.
He doesn't, though, just scratches the dog under his chin lightly. “You are the only thing in this cemetery that is still alive, Spot,” he whispers eventually, moving his eyes from the other side of the lake to the dog. The animal wriggles his tail again, barking quietly, almost lovingly.
The man is all too aware of how much he depends on this animal now. How much he needs him, his barking, cold nose and warm tongue and tickling fur.
But it's okay, because the dog won't feel suffocated. The dog won't tell him that nothing is wrong, and leave then. The dog will stick with him, fulfilling the promise the man heard from her.
The dog wriggles his tail, looking in the man's eyes; his brown, trusting eyes meet the man's for a moment before something else catches the animal's attention. The man rubs the thick fur behind the dog's ears, earning another happy wriggle.
“We should have seen it coming, Spot, and we should have done something,” the man continues, speaking to no one particular, except the dog. They are sitting by the lake, its shores empty, just as empty as the man's insides feel. “I should have done something...” His voice trails off as another memory washes over him, uncalled and unwanted.
“You have to understand. I can't... I can't be here. It feels like I'm suffocating.”
He sighs, a soft smile reluctantly appearing on his face when the dog licks his forearm. “I can't understand. What did I do wrong?”
Another memory flashes. “There is nothing wrong with you. You made no mistake. It's me, I... I just need to get away.”
“Why did she just leave me like that? This place, this house and garden that I made for her, it's... just a thing now. Not home, not anymore.” The man's voice sounds quiet, composed, although on the inside he feels like screaming.
He doesn't, though, just scratches the dog under his chin lightly. “You are the only thing in this cemetery that is still alive, Spot,” he whispers eventually, moving his eyes from the other side of the lake to the dog. The animal wriggles his tail again, barking quietly, almost lovingly.
The man is all too aware of how much he depends on this animal now. How much he needs him, his barking, cold nose and warm tongue and tickling fur.
But it's okay, because the dog won't feel suffocated. The dog won't tell him that nothing is wrong, and leave then. The dog will stick with him, fulfilling the promise the man heard from her.