By Peter J.
The dog stood atop the hill, looking down at the suburbs. She knew what brought her here. She remembered which house it was. When she spotted the burned remains, her furry back stung with ex-Master’s hits all over again. She watched the red trucks spray the mess with water, smoke clouding the air, with people watching on the street. She didn’t smell her ex-Master’s scent, and she didn’t know how she knew to come here today. But as she turned on her furry paws back home, she had what she needed.
Closure is a hole all of us have to fill.
A bitter-sweet story, but all in all a happy ending.
Thank you, Bobby!