Creative Control

Miscellaneous Mental Musings of an Emerging Artist

Understanding: A Short Story.

grief

“Where’s Oracle?” he asks. We are quiet.

“Where’s Oracle?” he repeats. We are quiet.

“Where’s Oracle?” he demands.

“Robin, come here,” I say. “We need to have a conversation.”

Robin, Dana, and I sit on the couch.

“Oracle isn’t here anymore,” I say to him. “She went away.”

“Why?” he asks.

“Oracle was very old, and very sick. So Mama and I had to take her away, and she can’t come back. And we’re very sad about it. But she loved you, and me, and Mama very much.”

He is quiet.

“Do you have any questions?” Dana asks him.

“Yes,” he says.

“What’s your question?” I ask him.

“Do we have any goldfish crackers?”

THE END.

***

Coda: A few days later, Robin walked up to Dana in tears and said “Oracle has been at the doctor too long. It’s time for Oracle to come back.” And then he and Dana both cried together, and when I came home she told me this story and all three of us cried together. And none of us ever forgot the dog who had been such an important part of our lives.

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This entry was posted on July 6, 2015 by in Dogs, Fatherhood, Love, Uncategorized.
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