| The white dog and the brown dog (Dismal narrative) To ruin my sleep through three consecutive nights, I went
out in search of cigarettes on three consecutive evenings. On each of those
evenings, as I found my alleyway, and the old ragged school nearby, I met two
dogs; one brown, and one white.
On the first day, I looked at the brown one and cuddled him
and spoke to him the best I could, considering that the rain had failed me in
cleansing my nails. The white one whimpered rather dismally, and even pawed at
my friend a tad bit.
On the second day, I found the white one as my lover, and
her whispers my verse. She rubbed her nose against my feet, instead of her own;
but I liked it either way, so I shrugged and let her be. The brown dog wasn’t
one for whining.. no, he haughtily leered at my hand and sat steadily.
I went to the same alleyway the last day, and the same two
dogs, one brown, and one white, came looking for me. But I was nowhere to be
seen, they thought. From beneath my shawl, I looked at them wandering, and
looking here and there, and peeking even into the bushes. I had no watch with
me, so I cannot tell you for how long it went on, but exactly thirty-six
breaths of mine later, I caught something new in the two dogs’ eyes.
Each looked sad for the other, worrying that, in my absence,
the other dog would fall to the cold asphalt, cursing me.
So, very naturally, each took on my role, and I watched them
(from beneath my shawl, which was a bit tired by now) cuddle each other
grandly, and tenderly.
I did not wait very long after that. There must’ve been
something that bothered me about the whole matter, and I was sure it wasn’t in
the fact that they didn’t need me anymore.
When I returned home, there was neither coffee on the table
nor postcards in the letterbox.
“Maybe I’ll go out for some coffee,” I thought. “Better not
take that alleyway, though.” |
