The baby screen wedged across the bedroom door is there to keep the dog out. At some point the decision was made to bar him from the room, although little of value has been left in the room he can damage. He is not a destructive dog and knows to not dirty the floor or to jump on the bed. I know why he whimpers from our side of the gate. The bedroom’s large windows face west and this time of the year buttery afternoon light spreads across the floor and drifts up the walls, which slowly change from freshly painted white to soft yellow. If he was allowed to stretch out in the light, on the deep-blue and brown and rust-red rug that came from another country, I would join him in the room and stretch out beside him. As he slept I would sleep too, and while the other people left the house to spend their day outside, we would rest together until dark, when he will be hungry and I can watch him eat. |
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Lying Down With Dogs by John Riley
Filed under John Riley
Intimate and almost primal. Very nice story
I could visualize every second of this this. Nicely done!
i think susan’s comments are right on. and i liked “buttery light” and the sense of comfort and ease.
Powerful piece with a light touch. Well done.
This seems homey and comforting to me.
Thanks everyone for the nice comments on my odd little piece–and thanks for the warm reception. This is a great place to learn about flash.
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