The dog that came to stay.

He was a good dog, wasn’t he?

Photo by me.

The woman looked towards me as I moved closer. Her eyes were clear and brown but her gaze was vacant; she stared somewhere over my shoulder.

The armchair she sat on might have been red once; now the fabric had worn thin and dirty sponge pushed through.

“Thanks for coming over missy,” She said.“I’m so glad you called the number.”



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Just the guy next door. Glad to meet you. Pull up a chair, let’s chat. I do stir the pot sometimes. Reach me on discord.