Mongrel

I sat in a park bench by the river. I felt like nearly every other day I would do this, but today was different. Today was the first day of spring. I don’t know how the powers that be decide these things. The first day of spring, the last day of summer, I mean I know it supposedly has something to do with the solstice and length of days. But the first day of spring never feels like the first day. It’s always either way before, or way after. I can’t remember a single time it was on the same day in my life. How strange is that?

A ravenous beast of a mutt came stalking up to me. He grunted once and nosed down between my legs. It seems in my musing I didn’t notice that a torn and tattered tennis ball found it way beneath me. I leaned forward and found the mongrel was examining my every movement with delicate precision. Not a single sound around him even tweaked the slightest part of his ear.

Fearing what would happen if I broke eye contact I fumbled around the ground for the ball. Dread filled me as I must have stumbled too far away from the dog’s prize with my searching hand, he emitted a deep belly growl that sunk deep into my mind and reversed the movement of my arm quickly.

My fingers flittered on the ball and I quickly spun my hand around and gripped the ball. Pulling it up I found the dog was fixed on it like a magic orb. I slowly shifted it back and forth in front of him. He tracked each and every movement. I decided I was already playing with enough fire and threw the ball in an impressive arc into the distance.

Without delay he was kicking up plods of soil in pursuit. Every muscle in his body was pulsing with an energy and fervor I will swear to this day I have never seen again. His tongue swung wildly from his mouth as I’m sure he was heaving in every last bit of usable air around him to speed his body.

I suddenly felt a great fear as I tracked his progress and noticed a child coloring with chalk on the paved path in front of him, completely oblivious to the massive bulk advancing towards him at break neck speed. I cringed and held my hands over my eyes listening intently for a juvenile scream to fill the air. But no such sound was emitted. I looked up quickly and found the mongrel a clear two feet above the babe legs fully extended passing over him with no notice given by the would be victim.

I had nearly forgotten that the ball had since disappeared into the tree line. Good riddance I thought at the dog was finally out of view. I looked back out on the river and felt myself being culled back into my previous thoughts. Then I heard it, a plonk and a growl. Down at my feet lay the ball and just beyond it the animal with it’s head slightly tilted.

-V-

Cloud Surfer

Walton was lying on his back alone in his favorite park. He could feel a light fleeting breeze kissing his cheek and moving on to rustle the tree leaves nearby. The sun was playing in the clouds shining rays of light all around him in erratic patterns around him. Birds were busy adjusting their nests chirping greetings to the rest of nature playing around the grounds. Walton let the day wash over himself as he let his mind wonder.

He started imagining his future. What would life bring him? Where would he go? What would he see? Hundreds of different lives passed in front of him powered by his imagination. Each one fully lived and realized in a matter of moments, brilliant and beautiful.

Something shifted in the clouds above him. It caught his attention almost immediately. It couldn’t have been a bird, it moved way too capriciously. Darting and dodging in the sky in ways he had never seen before. Then something incredible happened, the object started falling, and falling fast it was heading right at him. He only had seconds to roll out of the way as the being crashed into the ground where he once was.

Off kilter and a little disoriented, Walton stood up and stumbled back to where he was once lying on the hill. A young girl was crumbled up in a scar left in the soil by her impact. She barely moved, but Walton could see her mid-section slowly heaving to take in breath. She needed help, and he knew he was the only one around.

“Miss?” He tried lamely. He knew she was hurt bad. “Miss, can I help you?” He tried again with a bit more zeal.

“Urrghmmmphff…” was all that the being could manage. She then spit out a bunch of earth from her mouth, coughed and tried again.

“Ugh… That hurt! Did you do that?” She pointed a finger at Walton. “It was you wasn’t it! I was doing perfectly fine and then you, you, you,” she seemed to be stuck searching for the next word, perhaps the crash had affected her mental capacities as well.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said defensively.

“Of course not, you saw me, you pulled me down here! Stupid human.” She seemed really upset.

“I don’t get it.”

“Your kind never does. I’m a cloud surfer. We are a great race of people that control and work the clouds above you. We control the storms and the skies as we have for millennia. As children we are told to be careful of your kind, and now I know why. Jerk!”

“Well what can I do?” I asked feeling upset that she was blaming me for this.

“Nothing. That’s what you can do. Stupid human.” She hefted herself up and started hobbling away.

“Wait!” I yelled after her, but as I was hollering she dispersed into a lighted mist and floated up into the sky. Some days I think I should just stay inside.

-V-

Detached Day

Myra sat at the bench in the park all alone, staring into the cloudy sky. Sadness was clearly written across her face. Normally on days like today she would imagine the clouds as different animals, but today she just wasn’t feeling it. She tried closing her eyes and letting the light breeze sooth her, but it just tickled her hair against her cheek and annoyed her. None of her usual tricks were working. She crossed her arms and frowned.

Looking out over the park, not many things going on; a twenties-something playing catch with his dog, two older women power walking their way to calorie bloated lunches, and a ally cat staring up intently at some baby birds chirping away in their nest. Myra was startled when the man next to her first spoke, she hadn’t noticed him approach and he didn’t make any sounds prior this.

“Lovely day for a sit, isn’t it?” His voice came off in dulcet tones. He sat cross-legged next to her and looked to be in his late forties. He wore a time ravaged suit that was once black, now gray and tattered, and a top hat. His skin was a luminescent pale white, but he had amazingly dark features otherwise. He gave Myra a crooked cat like smile, which showed off is impossibly white glowing teeth.

“What the hell? Who are you?” Myra bellowed, she was very taken aback by her new companion. She had no idea how he got there, and how he did it so silently.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He stood up, took off his top hat and bowed, “People call me Mr. Hume. It’s a pleasure to meet you… miss?” He held the bow with his hat behind him waiting on her response.

“My name is Myra.” Myra so caught off guard and dumbfounded by this display that she responded before her mind could stop her. Damn, she thought immediately after the words were past her tongue. Mr. Hume smiled at this, placed the hat back on his head and took his place next to her once more. She decided she wasn’t going to let this strange man ruin her day any more than it was already, so she chose to just ignore him.

“You look so sad Myra. Why do you suppose that is?” He asked looking off into the middle distance. He didn’t seem at all too interested in her actually answering him. This agitated Myra to no end. Who does that? Why does he care? Or not care? His body language was too hard for her to read. She was usually very good at reading people; she prided herself in being able to do so. She figured what the hell, this conversation might be at least a distraction, and well, while he looked creeperish, he seemed harmless enough.

“I’m not sad, per se. I just feel so alone.” The words surprised Myra as they came out her mouth.

“Alone? How can you feel alone? You have so many people vying for your attention all the time.” He responded.

How would he know, Myra thought, but as if under a spell, she found that she couldn’t stop the dialog. “Well yes, there are a lot of people in my life, but I only take from them. They offer me so much, they are like my toys, and it’s too easy.” Why was she saying all this? Deep down she knew it was true, but she would never let it cross her lips.

“True, why do you treat people like toys?”

“No!” Finally she felt a little control coming back, “It’s just, no one really challenges me, or if they do I rip them apart.”

“That sounds queer. So no one is in the same class as you?”

“Yeah, I’m unique.” This, this was what she knew to be true. No one was like her, could ever understand her. This was why she was alone.

“No, you know everyone wants to be unique. Everyone wants to be special. You know what’s funny about that?” He only waited long enough for her to ask, but continued on without her saying a word. “That’s what makes everyone the same. We all share that.”

“No we don’t. I’m different from every one else, no one feels alone like I do. Trust me, I’d know.”

“And how would you begin to know how other people think? You’re only concerned with controlling them, treating them like playthings, you don’t actually care about any thing other than yourself.” His words hurt, but he had no contempt in his voice. He was just stating fact, and she knew it. She felt alone, because she was alone, but only insofar as she actually wanted to be alone. This didn’t make sense; she didn’t want to be alone. She’d read the fairytales, she’d seen the people who were happy and had friends, they weren’t alone. Was she alone? She was so confused now.

“You see, until you learn to try and understand people, really understand people, you will feel alone, but know that, because of that, you’re really not alone. You’re just like everyone else who’s just like you.” She turned to respond, but he was gone, disappeared like smoke in the wind.

-V-