We enter through a large set of pristine glass sliding doors, and take a seat on two plain wooden seats.
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i wake to find myself in between my familiar sheets. realising i must have forgot to draw the curtain over my window the night before, i now bask in the glorious sunlight streaming through and illuminating my little bedroom. its a challenge, even on a beautiful day like this, but i eventually heave myself out of bed and pull on a summer dress and sandals.
retreating downstairs and into the kitchen, i'm alarmed to see the oven clock displays 11:34. i have already slept the majority of this glorious day away. on the counter there lies a note scribbled onto a pink post-it. "i've popped out with a friend. back by 3. toaster waffles in the fridge. love, mum." i don't blame her for making the most of today.
i'd come to he conclusion i was a lone in the house, but a small patter of feet behind me says otherwise. turning around, her small fluffy figure comes into view. i kneel down to pet her, running my fingers through her long, curly hair. i boop her wet nose. "mum's not home. let's go for a walk." i say.
YOU ARE READING
Paws
PoetryA short story about loving, losing and letting go. Cover by the amazing @Angelinacolbe