Man's Best Friend
Man's Best Friend
Ain’t no mountain high, ain’t no Valley low
Pale blue reigns high. Winds whisk ashy clouds into thin ligaments of vapor. Leather boots stomp hot pebbles encrusted in sandy loam. A serpentine river snaked in the distance.
There, he thought, that’s where she’ll be.
Knee-high California sagebrush and coastal prickly pear. His eyes flared with grit as he blazed a path down the valley and through live oak and sycamore until hot gold rays thawed his cooled skin.
She’s gotta be close, he thought.
Blaring orange melted to cream, shifted purple as the sun set behind distant ridgebacks. Crickets staged in deergrass. Coyotes hollered in dwellings.
Time was running out.
At the bottom, he reached up to the darkened sky and clapped. Clapped again. His eyes scanned the area, looking through emerging shadows. Nothing came. He fell to his knees and looked at the bone-shaped dog cookie in his hand. A tear shed off his cheek.
The whites of his eyes grew. He flung off his backpack, reached inside, and pulled out a small round ball. Dried slobber glistened off the plastic. The squeak echoed across the valley. Two glowing eyes and a wagging tail blundered out of the dark shadows.
He smiled and wiped away tears as his palm opened and a leash unfurled, metal fastener slashing at the soil as it fell to its length.
This was from a fun 200 word prompt the incredible George Saunders posted a couple weekends ago. Thought I’d share with everyone.
has one of if not the best SubStacks around, so go and check out his page and subscribe if you haven’t already.And if you’re wondering, it’s actually 220 words or so. Close, but no cigar.
I’m a little behind on this weeks follow up post he has us doing after traveling to Nashville, so I’ll be tackling that challenge tomorrow, and then will post sometime later next week.
Thanks for reading.
-Ben Monaco