Dog Noir 4

in

It was clear what she wanted the moment she walked in. The bottle said it all. She would be trouble, and if I'd seen her coming I'd've pretended no one was home. Too late for that now. She crooked her finger and, sucker I am, I came.

I'd like to say I had some kind of plan, some clever twist that would turn everything around in my favor, but the truth is that I'd always been a pushover for her. Ever since she first skritched me behind the ear, all she had to do was say my name and I'd come running. I could draw a direct line from that first meeting to now, a chain 'round my neck that meant I'd walk willingly where she led, even into a trap.

She led me to a small room, all tile, nice and clinical. Perfect for betrayal. The raised section, clean and white... I'd been here before. I'd thought I was free of it, but fate had brought me back. Fate... and her. Two forces in my life that always have the last word.

I'd survived before, and I'd survive again. Face it: Sometimes you just have to take a bath.

Bare Feet Dangling

in

She found him sitting on the edge of the cliff, bare feet dangling over the edge, looking into the wispy clouds below. She sat beside him, her shod feet kicking slowly beside his, glancing back at the rocky trail.

Before she could say anything, he asked tonelessly, "Can you feel it?"

She looked around. "Feel what?"

"The dream is ending. They woke up. Any minute they'll forget us and..." He shrugged. She followed his tired gaze into one of the clouds. Inside, she saw a luxurious restaurant in gold and velvet, watching as the gold tarnished, the cloth dried into tatters, and the lights burned out. The cloud evaporated. "We can't have long," he said.

She watched another cloud evaporate, this one a dancing class for skeletons, and felt the cliff tremble beneath her. The tik-tak-tik of freed pebbles echoed up to her. Toe to heel, she loosened her shoes and kicked them free, watching them fall. When they disappeared into the cloudbank, she pushed to her feet. He looked up at her. "You can't run from it, you know."

"Who's running?" With a smile, she dove. Behind and above her, he gaped as the cliff gave way beneath him.

Grown So Close

in

They were practically the same tree, they grew so close together. From when they were seedlings, too young to be aware, to when they took firm root and gained real height, they were together. Everyone thought only one would survive, crowding out the other, catching the light and capturing the earth's nutrients, leaving the other to die.

Not so. They leaned apart and shared what light slipped through the canopy of older trees, and they entwined their roots such that the groundwater fed them both. After the decades grew them taller than the nearby houses, it became clear they were destined to be together. Their trunks had grown over one another at the base. They looked less like two trees than one tree split in two.

The trees had heard many humans talking over the years, which is why they understood these phrases on this particular day. "Signs of rot," they heard. "Angled toward the house." "Better safe than sorry." The next day came the lumberfolk, and of the two leaning trees, only one saw the end of that day.

It would prefer not to fall on anyone, the tree thought. But it would also prefer not to be alone.

Certified Service Animal

in

"You can't bring that on the plane, ma'am." The agent stood beside Beatrice just outside the stuttered flow of already-weary travelers passing through security. He leaned away from her luggage.

Her hand settled protectively on the fabric-and-mesh carrying case. "It's my service animal."

"A spider larger than my hand isn't a service animal!"

"Look, just because it makes you nervous doesn't mean she can't help me! You couldn't stop me from taking my service dog if you'd gotten bitten as a child, could you?"

The agent's supervisor stepped over. "What's the trou—whoaly shit." He flinched away from the Brazilian wandering spider now clinging to the mesh top of the carrying case. "What the hell? Er, ma'am."

Beatrice simply withdrew her certified doctor's note declaring the pet a companion with legitimate medical benefits and held it out. After several minutes discussing the matter with higher pay grades someplace out of sight, the supervisor returned and handed the note back.

"So, uh." He was sweating. "That helps you? Somehow?"

"She soothes me. Helps avoid panic attacks." She tucked the note away and swept up her things.

"I panic less," she murmured as she walked away, "knowing I can have her bite fools."