And this short story is an inspired piece...
Outside,
the dawn broke and rays of the sun penetrated the dark blanket. The kettle on
the stove was just beginning to hiss softly. At that moment, all I heard were
His quiet snores. I loved those little noises He makes as He sleeps and I loved
watching Him sleep. I loved it when He was being lazy and I loved racing Him in
the park. I loved Him for holding my hand as we went to the doctor and I loved Him
when He fed me those little bits of food from His plate. I loved Him
unconditionally and I loved Him for all the little things He did for me.
I watched His chest rise and fall as He
lay face down on His laptop with a soft blue glow play upon His cheek. He was
so tired. He had hardly come home for three hours the whole day for an entire
week. I missed Him. I missed watching bad television with Him as He ate pizza
and gave me the crusts. I missed playfully wrestling with Him. I missed
cuddling beside Him at nights as whispered in my ears softly. My hair tickled Him I was too wide for the bed, but He would always want me beside Him.
And I knew that I’d always be there for Him, even if He left me all alone
through the day.
His phone vibrated, and for an instant
I could see the picture of Him, the Other Man and me. I knew about the Other
Man in His life. The Other Man was important and I knew He cared differently
for the Other Man. I liked the Other Man too, because he was always kind
towards me. Besides, he always brought food for us. Whenever the Other Man
visited us, He was always happy and enthusiastic. He looked at the Other Man
the way I looked at Him. Didn’t He understand? The Other Man could never give
Him what I gave Him, the Other Man would never love Him like I do, and when the
Other Man leaves, I would be the one to console Him. I understood, though, that
the Other Man and Him had something else special. Sometimes, that made me
jealous, but I could not blame Him, not when I loved the Other Man too. I loved
Him more, but I loved both men in my life.
The golden orb in the sky was high up
when the kettle began to hiss and whistle viciously. He woke up with a start
and rubbed His eyes. The keyboard had left little marks all over His usually
smooth and pale, left cheek. He swore under His breath and ran His hand through
His sandy-brown, messy hair. He shut the laptop and glanced at me sprawled on
the sofa. A slow, warm smile spread across His face. He packed up and got ready
to leave. I padded to His side, lazily wagging my tail, and He poured some milk
from the kettle in my bowl. I watched as He left and shut the door behind Him,
leaving me alone, all over again.
