By Jessica Gigot

July 2, 2018


We sprinted by the worn house with the closed blinds that reeked of pot and who knows what else. I gave the leash a short tug and we slowed to a walk again. A gray blur whooshed past us. Then there was a screech followed by a resounding thud. 

At the corner it was clear. A man, lawyerly, stood behind his open car door and gazed in disbelief at the dead dog by the curb. His kids began to yell from the car and he told them, calmly, he had dropped something. He slapped the pavement. 

I offered to call the police, but then I heard a voice. 

“Excalibur, Excalibur!” 

A young guy came strolling down the street. He had long hair tied in a ponytail and a scraggly beard. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his pants were barely held up by an ill-fitted belt. He was skinny, addiction skinny, and when he came under the lamp light I was sure he was from that house. He shot me a quirky glance before noticing the car and the lifeless frame. 

He paused and then let out a fierce scream. 

The lawyer man cautiously approached him from across the road. I nervously back-pedaled onto the sidewalk. Suddenly, the lawyer man grabbed the young guy into his arms like he was his own son. The young guy melted into the embrace, his bare chest heaving. 

“It hurts so much,” sobbed the young guy. 

The lawyer man cried, “I know. I know.”

comments powered by Disqus « Back to Beautiful-Things

Newsletter Sign Up

shadow shadow