Michela Walters’s Picture Choice: 2
Title: Patiently Waiting
She sits patiently waiting for her master to finish her pier to pier swim every evening. Until the night her master doesn’t return.
I can only watch mournfully as a group of people dressed in black walk toward the sand, carrying paper lanterns along with their surfboards. People sit two or three abreast on some of the long boards and paddle out past the break. The scene is eerie as the lanterns are released just as the sun falls beneath the stormy blue waves on the horizon. As majestic as the floating, flickering lights are, my heart breaks for the dog sitting on the edge of the sand not quite realizing her master isn’t coming in from the waves this time.
Making my way down to where the dog is waiting, I sit beside her trying to take in everything from her perspective. The burnt orange sunset enhances the floating lanterns while the soothing words of In My Life echo in from the water.
My hand creeps towards the dog’s head, slowly trying to ensure she’s okay with my touch. She leans into my hand, nuzzling and moving closer to me. We sit side by side, watching the surfers catch their waves in.
“Kaylee’s going to need a good home now that Shelly’s gone.”
I jump at the deep voice’s comments. The man standing before me is older, with wavy graying hair that can only look distinguished when worn by a handsome man. “Sorry, I was watching from my deck and couldn’t help but come down and keep this ol’ girl company.” I stand and brush the sand from my shorts to shake his hand and speak briefly about the ceremony I’d just witnessed. The entire time we’re chatting Kaylee’s been snuggled up against my legs, her eyes never leaving the ocean.
My hand drops unconsciously to rub behind her ears when Tom reminds me she needs a good home. “She’s about five I think, but if you’ve watched her, you know well behaved she is and will sit and wait and wait until you tell her to come.”
“She really doesn’t have anyone to take her in?”
Sadness seeps into Tom’s eyes as he shakes his head. “Most of us live in apartments where we can’t have dogs. We were going to post it up at SeaShells bar to see if anyone might be interested in taking her in.”
We continue to discuss Kaylee’s welfare while the rest of the attendees of the wake stroll up to give the ol’ girl a pat on her head or a snuggle into her soft fur.
When all that remains of the memorial surf ride is a few dotted lanterns scattered along the horizon, I accept Tom’s suggestion. Just as I turn towards my little beach bungalow, I call out to Kaylee, knowing I would be picking up her belongings the next morning and trying to fill the very big shoes of her previous master.
“Come on girl,” I shout, patting my legs to get her attention. My heart stutters when she takes one last longing glance towards the ocean, as if saying her own fond farewell. I try again, calling to her with a smile and a joyous sounding, “Come.” The word releases her from where she was sitting, and in five long strides she’s bounding across the sand and meeting me at the steps to my deck.
Leaning down, I whisper in her ear, “we can come visit whenever you want.”
Like what you just read? Have a question or concern? Leave a note for the author! We appreciate your feedback!
Michela Walters is a wife, mother and book enthusiast. She is currently attempting her hand at writing her first romantic fiction novella. You can read her other stories on her blog: michelawalters.wordpress.com