She'd always come running when I called. I forgot myself at one point, and went to call her name, which made me feel even more isolated. It was so strange to be up on our hill alone.

A bitter wind whistled around the crest of the hill. I tugged my scarf tighter around my neck and wished I had worn a hat. It was so cold. Far too cold for a morning in March.

As I looked to the tiny ant-like people walking along the river bank below, the scene misted up before my eyes. It was not the same being up here alone.

I shrugged and walked back to the car park with a heavy heart.

As I got home and entered my apartment, I went straight to the kitchen. There on the table was her faded red collar. When I picked it up I could see some white hairs caught in the leather and binding.

As sobs wracked my body, I thought of her. My friend, my companion. She'd lived for much longer than she was expected to but it was still so hard to let her go.

I miss you, Maxi.

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ganymeder almost 11 years ago

Oh, this was so sad. I lost my 'puppy' over a year ago, and things like this still make me mist up. Nicely told.

RebeccaEmin (joined over 11 years ago)
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I've just finished my first novel and I really enjoy writing flash fiction as well.

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Story information

License

Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0

tags

loss grief

Prompt

She'd always come running when I called.
Prompt suggested by Galen

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