A weathered dog sniffs a discarded cigarette, now only a filter. His stomach probably growls like mine. If I had any, I’d share my food with him.
Overhead, a plane roars. Its metal glare temporarily blinds me from reality. For a few hopeful seconds, I imagine I’m flying away, too.
Natalie Nee is a bibliophile, graduate of Colorado State University, former ghostwriter, and latte enthusiast. Her debut novel, a domestic thriller, is currently out on submission. Natalie’s short story, “Saudade”, was published by the webzine, Across the Margin. Her other poems have been published by Roi Fainéant Press, Half and One, and other literary magazines. She’s cooler on Twitter (@NovelNatalie).
Wish I could feed you both.
It is so sorrowful, how often people try to find peace in their imagination to just avoid sharpness of the reality.
Hurtful but beautiful story.
It’s fascinating how a feeling of sorrow can be relayed in just five short sentences