By Alyson Faye
A scarecrow of a man strides across the park. The wind lifts his rain cape, giving him wings. Hovering, he eyes the river, where the heron couple perch. Prehistoric birds. They remember him; are wary.
Dusk smothers the flower beds. A terrier yaps—startled, he touches ground. “Shh,” he whispers, strokes the dog with a bony forefinger, hiding him beneath the cape.
“Benny?” A woman’s voice, calling, anxious.
Man, dog and cape dissolve into a puddle on the tarmac. Unseeing, the woman passes.
He reforms, flesh and bone, cuddling the dog. His hollow heart beats.
“Companion,” he croons, and takes flight.
Eerie and nicely done!
Thank you, Bud, appreciate you commenting and your support