Un-resigned

A Story by Ben Taylor

The trees behind are blistered scarlet, the morning sunlight glowing crimson through the leaves. The road ahead is clogged with the usual migration of early-hour workers, each impersonal glance quickly whisked away on four wheels. The sun is golden, illuminating the autumn in its gentle gleam.

What a beautiful morning to be alone, to be abandoned.

A withered brown leaf falls at his feet, and, just as quickly, is swept away by the brisk seasonal breeze. His fur is matted, burs twisting his hair into knots. A stray oil stain has affixed itself to his paw.

A whimper silently tickles the back of his throat as he realizes he may be, despite his loyalty, utterly companionless. As the sun glows more brightly in the sky, his shadow stretches to become a single macula of gray in this landscape of gold.

He rests his head on his paws, watching the cars, hoping that the one that left him here will return. There's no harm in waiting.

Still waiting.