He lies on the greenish-blue fluffy carpet, with his hind legs tucked in tight, the bottom of his paws resting comfortably on the cotton beneath him. His front legs limp in front of his lazy grooved body, one being slightly bent at the wrist. Between his two wiggly front legs sits his statue fixed head, and just below, his dark snout droops the sides of his lips.

The silent room around him only echoes distant creaks. Only certain sounds can be heard at this time, each introduced in intervals. The tics from the glossed wooden clock, the tapping on the living room window from the gentle trees outside, the slight grumble coming from the refrigerator, or even the mysterious squeaking of a door can all be heard before they awake.

As each revealing noise passes, his ears remain calm, patient. The wise eyes stationed on his face, face directly forward, towards the brown faded shut door. Occasionally blinking, the lids of his eyes slowly lower, but as every tic from the clock sounds, his eye lids slowly rise.

So there he sits, seeming lifeless on the ground, with his eyes slightly open and the skin around them as if melting. Dead as the house surrounding him, lays his aged frame. Quiet, peaceful, and patiently he waits; until his ears sharply sprout to the distant touch of a cottoned covered foot kissing the ground.

A Short Story by Michael E. Wilson Jr.

Greg was running down the city block on Canal trying to reach Varet Street as soon as he possibly could. He knew the bounty hunters had been looking for him and was trying his best to stay out of their sight. These bounty hunters had been searching for him for the last six weeks. He owed them a large sum of money that he borrowed to produce his films and had not paid them back. All of his projects failed and his accounts had been frozen due to overwhelming debt. How could Greg pay back twenty thousand dollars when he didn’t even have enough for a meal! Like you, Greg didn’t know the answer either. As he reached Varet Street he realized that the bounty hunters would find him on Varet for sure; he had lost all faith that he could escape successfully. He began to think up a plan. The bridge was not far from his present Varet. He then decided that he would jump into the river and give his destiny to the vile current. Greg was planning on drowning himself that sly evening.

As he approached the bridge he slowed down and began to feel relieved from running for so long. The bridge was quiet with no one in the distance to witness Greg take his life. He smiled as he stepped out into the edge and stared at the now black water. His phone suddenly began to ring. Greg threw it off to the side of the bridge. It slid to the opposite side of the bridge almost falling over into the ocean. Greg believed it to be the bounty hunters informing him that they were on his tail. Greg then jumped into the river and an amazing splash would have been heard if anyone was around to hear it.

Greg’s phone had stop ringing and a soft voice spoke once his answering machine picked up. It was his girlfriend, and she was telling him that she loved him and that she wanted to spend her entire life with him. She continued to say that she could never go on without him then “I love you, Bye.” and hung up.

Based on a true story.

In loving memory of a former friend.