Part one of a short story that I wrote for this week’s prompt in a writing group that I am a part of. Enjoy and feel free to comment!

Art by Flow

Old Glory’s High (Part 1)

It’s late, the stars create cookie-cutter light impressions in a tattered pitch sky as the neighbor’s Golden Retriever howls off-key to the seductive pull of the blossoming full moon outside.

She’s here, as usual, her hair a bit more tangled and greasy, her amber waves slowly ebbing away to dirty bleach blonde like sand being stolen over the years by an ever-hungry sea. Her hands are thin and nervous, tangled together like a fish in a net, dancing like spiders in their silken webs as she shuffles from foot to foot, rubbing her arms in a vain attempt to keep warm down here in her condition.

The air is cold, stifling, a touch too sterile, in a worrisome contrast to her unpleasantly hopeful expression.

“I can’t keep doing this,” I say, and her puppyish look, almost pathetic in that blatant begging, sours like curdled milk…

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