Welcome to the Spot Writers. The prompt for this month is to write about new neighbors moving in. Today’s tale comes to us from Val Muller, author of the Corgi Capers kidlit series.
Return of the
Light
by Val Muller
The fire crackled, and Samantha tossed
another log on it. She half turned, was almost about to shush the dog—Bella
always startled when Sam threw a log on the fire. But then Sam remembered.
Bella was gone. It hadn’t been a year, not quite. It seemed like forever. Then
again, it seemed just yesterday that Bella had been there, at her feet.
But last year, at the winter solstice,
Bella had been there at the campfire, keeping watch in the night, the
darkest night of the year.
What’s supposed to be the darkest
night of the year, anyway. There was a darker one. A night without Bella. The
first night, then the next one, and many, many more. It was getting easier, but
some habits were hard to break, like searching for a dog at her feet, looking
for a begging pup at mealtime, that sort of thing.
The fire at winter solstice was a
tradition, but doing it alone was not. This celebration was about the return of
the light—the return of the sun. It was supposed to be happy, but—
Sam stared into the fire and imagined
the next year stretched out before her, stretched out the way a dog would
stretch, head down, rump in the air, just like—
No, the fire dancing along the trees
was playing tricks on her. Sam could swear she saw a dog stretching by the
tree, but surely it was just a log or a—
“Simba!” a voice called.
“Hello?” Sam called back.
The “log” turned to her and scurried
over, tail wagging. It was no log, but a golden doodle, and a happy one at
that, showering her in kisses. She’d almost forgotten that ineffable feeling,
the one that transcended the senses, the unconditional joy and Zen of the
present brought when a dog—
“Simba!” the voice called again, and
the dog reluctantly backed away and hurried to the voice at the edge of the
fire.
“I’m sorry,” the voice said. “Simba’s
a little excited to be at his new house. Isn’t he, you good boy, you.” The
man’s voice degenerated into dog cooing. Then the man, realizing his neglect of
fellow human, turned to Sam.
“Mike,” he said. “My wife and I moved
in just this morning.” He motioned to the darkness, toward the recently-sold
house. “Poor guy’s been crated much of the day. You a dog person? He seems to
take quite a liking to you. I’ll have to have my wife come over in the morning.
The two of you seem like you’d get along. You don’t have dogs, do you?”
Sam took a breath, allowing the shock
of it all to dissipate. She turned to the fire, watching the crackling flames
make patterns on the logs—now a dog, then a cloud, then a person jumping, now a
bird in flight—the solstice flames embracing the ephemeral nature of life. She
looked up as the circle of light embraced her new neighbor and his companion.
Then she took a deep breath and spoke, for only just a second imagining Bella
still at her feet.
The Spot Writers—Our Members:
Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/
Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/
Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com
Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/
Nessun commento:
Posta un commento