Claws on stone

Nervous, the dog follows me up the hill looking for the moon. Last day of July. It wasn’t long after I tied up all the daisies they died. Because it couldn’t give me everything I wanted, I kept going back to work email for something new. Another month with its tongue wagging, all those empty squares. An advent calendar with nothing but empty foil. I played my wireless speaker in the dark and sat outside as the night came on and the wind picked up and the candle died down. The dog pawed at the door wanting in. The dog pawed at the door wanting out. There was no way out, no escape.



Categories: microblogging, prose, writing

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11 replies

  1. Everywhere you go you take the weather with you.
    Unfortunately.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. let me in, let me out. the push and pull we find ourselves in

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Freaking August is a month that I dread so strongly. August and September were always the worst months of my life. If I can get through those, I’ll be happy.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Dead daisies, empty squares, stumble, gargoyle, the candle dies out.
    And curses, foiled again. I like that idea of an empty, played-out advent calendar.
    Yeah, August is possibly my least-favorite month, too. Named for the first emperor, after the fall of the Roman Republic. Let’s hope nobody around here has got any crap ideas like that. Well, August is also, finally, ripe tomatoes, peaches, watermelon…time to feast!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Aw man sorry to hear it’s your least favorite! That’s interesting, I’m not sure which I’d choose myself. Is it because it signals summer’s end? I talked to a school teacher friend today, who’s bemoaning its arrival, and I called it the Sunday of all seasons. Perhaps, that. But I like Sundays. I like The End.

      Like

  5. In my mind I hear this being read by Rod Serling from The Twilight Zone. Don’t we all feel like we’ve taken a detour to the zone this year? I hope we get some good literature out of it at least.

    Liked by 2 people

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