Its blue glass eyes stare sightlessly into space, yet they have witnessed so much, so many things they are unable to tell.
The translucent blue figurine of a dog stands eternally at attention in its glass display case, proud, erect, just the way it stood so many years ago. It meets the stares of those whose eyes travel over its smooth body, over the ripples in the glass that indicate where sinewy muscle is flexed. Its stare is unflinching, unwavering, yet utterly devoid of life. Its eyes now and then are no different, and still it remembers...
"What shall we name him?" the blond soldier's arms encircle her waist, drawing the raven haired girl to his chest. "A good dog needs a name."
"I want to name him Moritz," she says, looking tenderly upon the glass figurine like it's her most prized possession. "After your dog in the field."
He gives her a knowing look, almost like he knew she would say something like that.
"Moritz it is, then."
The dog watches from its obedient perch on the oaken surface as she turns in his arms, her hands going to the back of his neck. He places his hands on her waist and raises her off her feet ever so slightly into the air to match his height. They kiss each other fervently, almost like it's the last time they will ever do so...
YOU ARE READING
Blue Glass
Historical FictionManfred Von Richthofen has always known his destiny. His entire life has been consecrated to a profession as an officer in the field. He has realized all the goals set for him and more-he has made a name for himself as The Red Baron, shooting countl...
