A short story about laying a pet to rest |
My Friend I carried a friend with me today. A friend that could not talk or escape from my cage. I carried this friend on my back. We hiked a snow covered trail. The stream was mostly frozen, except for small pools of water hiding beneath white pillows of rock. The air was cool, the sky a stormy gray. I was quite warm. My friend felt nothing at all. The trail ahead was empty and quiet, Only the occasional soft noise of snow falling from a windswept fir. With all of this solitude I did not once speak to my friend. My mind was overwhelmed and engrossed with memories and sorrow. I knew where I wanted to go. To me it seemed fitting. The trail apparently did not agree. It soon ended. The snow too deep. The trail too well hidden. I was forced to double back. I searched quickly for an appropriate place. One that I would always be able to remember and of course find. There it stood. Starting as two and becoming one. Perhaps the reverse would have been a more ideal resting spot, but my friend and I were always one. I walked carefully to the bottom of this most peculiar tree and let my friend down for the last time. I gazed for awhile possibly waiting to cry. It did not happen, although I knew it was there. I walked away quietly. The sound of the snow compressing beneath my feet. I returned to the trail and left without my friend |