It’s the weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! We’ve got a variety of genres and talented writers just waiting for you to come sample their wordy wares. Come read one, or all, or pick a few like leftover holiday memories….
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It’s been a tricky week, and I didn’t get around to visit anyone, despite my intentions. I also didn’t answer any of the comments on last week’s post.
Early Sunday afternoon, our nine-year-old pit bull mix, Corki, died after a brief illness with cancer. He was in the backyard, where he wanted to be, and I was the last one to speak to him, which seems fitting since he was definitely a mama’s boy.
He wasn’t a loud or intrusive dog, but he was a strong presence in our lives since he was a puppy, and his absence has been keenly felt by all of us, this week. Things like comments and visits fell far down the priorities list, as we dealt with our grief. For our daughter, especially, this has been difficult. She wasn’t quite four when we adopted the Corki-dog as a ten week old puppy, and doesn’t really remember a time without him in her life.
I keep thinking I see him in his favorite places. Thinking I hear him. Last night, a dog barked outside, and my Accomplice said, “That’s not our dog.” It was a sad moment for us both.
We’ll adjust. Life continues, for the living. And, since it’s the weekend again, it’s time to share another serialized snippet from “A Splash of Red,” my surreal fantasy story – the child of my own life and dreams, with a generous dollop of imagery and a big dash of creative license.
We’ve only got a few more snippets before we finally get to the end of the story, so things will begin to come clear…or as clear as they’ll get, anyway.
More on the story after the eight-sentence snippet.
Context, such as it is…A woman is attempting to win the trust of a little girl in a red dress, while hawks wheel above. Last week, the child apologized for the hawks’ attacks.
Given the surrealism of the story, punctuation is a bit creative, so be warned!
“You lived. We lived. You kept us as safe as you could. You hid what was most precious in us, until we were old enough and strong enough to get free. Without you, my children wouldn’t be happy – we wouldn’t be happy.”
At last, she throws herself into my arms, snuggles in against my chest, curls into me. We hold to each other, and cry until we laugh, as the sun sinks lower in the sky, and the hawks spin above, silent, no longer so threatening.
And then she squirms free.
What does the woman mean?
What does the child intend to do now?
Can they finally heal together?
Next week brings more answers…
Previous “A Splash of Red” snippets can be accessed by clicking the button below.
Did you like what you read? “A Splash of Red” was originally published in the 2014 inaugural edition of World Unknown Review, which is edited by L.S. Engler. Since I retain all rights beyond first publication, I intend to revise the story and use it as my own initial self-publishing experiment.
That being said, I’d love any and all input and criticism you’re inclined to offer.
The Very Best Corki-dog, with his girl. Spring 2016, before he was ill.