Believe it or Not

Here Comes the Sun

George awakes the next morning to the feeling of his face being caked in a wet, slimy texture. His eyes flutter open to be met with his dog, slobbering and showering him in wet kisses.

George groans, lightly pushing the dog away. He feels gross, trying to wipe his hands and face with the sleeping bag he used as a bed. The golden, gitty dog bounces around. A bright smile stretches across her face. While the morning greeting may have been disgusting, George finds it hard to stay mad at the animal.

With a smile, he moves to stand up. The hard wooden floors hadn't been all too kind on the man. George places his hands to his back, stretching his sore muscles. "God, those movers better get here soon." He mumbles to himself.

Stretching his arms in the air, George looks around, the dog sits at the front door, looking back at her owner. She whines a bit while placing a paw on the door. George huffs a bit. "You need out girl?"

The dog whines some more, pattering her feet in place. George obliges, making his way over to the pet. He opens the door to which the dog sprints and onto the front lawn. George steps out of the house, leaving against the doors frame while he waits for the dog to relieve itself.

He looks out on the road and at the other houses. All neatly lined up beside each other. A large oak tree sits at the end of every house. If trees had mouths, oh the stories they'd tell. People pass on by down the sidewalk, some with pets, some by themselves. Birds chirp happily from their nests, signaling the start of the day. Everything is bright and full of colour. It's all so different from the loud, grey, and industrial life George is used to, but it's a good kind of different.

George looks down the sidewalk, coming up it is a woman and what seems to be her child. They walk hand in hand, cheerful smiles on their faces. They seem to giggle about something, it's serine. The two pass in front of the house's driveway before the girl's attention is caught by something. "Puppy!" She exclaims.

The girl barrels forward, heading towards George's dog. This action causes the man to jog down to the lawn, making sure nothing bad becomes of the situation. "Oh, Michelle," The lady says, running up behind her supposed daughter.

She grabs her wrist lightly. "You can't just go up and pet a stranger's dog. You have to ask first." She scolds.

George comes to crouch beside his dog, looking up at the woman and child. From here he can see them better. The lady is short, no taller than 5'2. Her hair is curly with half of it being brown while the other side is white. She wears a flowery low cut blouse with a pair of baggy jeans.

The little girl looks to be no older than five. She wears a pair of blue jean overalls with a knitted pink crewneck sweater. Her hair is also curly and did up into pigtails. Her free hand stretches outward in a grabbing motion, seemingly still wishing to pet the dog. "I'm so sorry about that." The lady says.

George waves a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it."

George comes to look the girl in the eyes who now hides a bit behind the lady's leg, clinging to the fabric of her pants. Gently, George asks. "You wanna pet the dog?"