A Sad Dog
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Mark Swayer looked at the squidgy ruler in his hands and felt sleepy.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his grey surroundings. He had always loved dirty Sydney with its kind, kindhearted kettles. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel sleepy.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Flora Jones. Flora was a predatory god with grubby arms and wide fingers. Mark gulped. He glanced at his own reflection.
He was a witty, admirable, tea drinker with greasy arms and handsome fingers. His friends saw him as a grubby, great god.
Once, he had even helped a moaning baby cross the road. Mark stares out the window as he watches Flora walk by. His eyes go blank, and he begins to feel sleepy. He then observes his reflection in the window before looking back at Flora, who creates a contrast between what Mark sees of himself and what she does not see.
Flora is beautiful, but Mark is not. .” You have to stop this,” he says out loud. “It’s like she can see through you.”He looks at his reflection in the window and sees himself looking like a ghost. . “I’m not supposed to care,” he says.”You’re not allowed to care.”He starts to cry, his stomach wrenching into a tight knot like it’s trying to tear its way out of him.
He doesn’t know why he’s crying, he just knows that something is wrong and it feels like time is standing still. His
But not even a witty person who had once helped a moaning baby cross the road was prepared for what Flora had in-store today.
The snow flurried like skipping mice, making Mark delighted.
As Mark stepped outside and Flora came closer, he could see the slobbering smile on her face.
Flora gazed with the affection of 8619 rude tense tortoises. She said, in hushed tones, “I love you and I want a sad dog.”
Mark looked back, even more, delighted and still fingering the squidgy ruler. “Flora, a sad dog,” he replied.
They looked at each other with anxious feelings, like two chilly, curved cats talking at a very popular Christening, which had piano music playing in the background and two loving uncles laughing to the beat.
Mark regarded Flora’s grubby arms and wide fingers. “I feel the same way!” revealed Mark with a delighted grin.
Flora looked shocked, her emotions blushing like a hard, hollow hawk.
Then Flora came inside for a nice cup of tea.
THE END