Putting My Feet in the Dirt prompt# 10- The Boy Who Read Her

Baxy Smith saw the lady and her dog for the first time, six years ago.

It was dark that when he saw her walking towards him, it was raining and it was so foggy that night Baxy could hear cars  crashing into each other on the road up ahead and a few planes that had been flying overhead were flying dangerously close to the tree tops.

The air was thick and cold. It crawled up Baxy’s nose and slid down his throat. Sometimes during the summer when Baxy is out on that road and it’s hot and there isn’t a cloud in the sky the taste of that first dark night comes back to Baxy and he closes his eyes and wishes it away.

But on that first night he saw the Lady and Her Dog, Baxy wasn’t thinking about the Rain and the Fog and the sound of cars hitting each other, he was wondering if he should step aside and let the Lady and Her Dog pass by or should he just breeze by them.

He decided to stand to the side and let them by and as they walked by them the Dog looked up at Baxy and it stopped.

” He’s remembering me. ” Baxy thought to himself. ” For later.”

The Lady didn’t tug on the dog’s leash. She waited for him to finish remembering Baxy and when it turned it’s head and looked up the  street the Lady put one foot in front of the other and they started to walk through the fog and into the rain.

Each year, for the next six years Baxy saw the Lady and her Dog walking towards him, when it was raining, when the fog was so thick it wasn’t safe to drive your car or fly a plane.

The last time Baxy saw the Lady and her dog, he stopped and asked her ” why do you walk your dog on nights like this? Isn’t it dangerous? Aren’t you afraid?”

The Lady’s dog looked into Baxy’s face. He didn’t growl at Baxy, but it looked like he wanted too.

” What is it Hamish? ” she asked her dog. “What are you looking at? ”

” He’s looking at me, he remembers me- no one else does. But he does. ”

” Come on. ” the Lady told her dog. ” Let’s go home. ”

Bexy watched them walk away, he watched them walk home and when they were out of sight the fog, the rain and the darkness  wrapped around him and he was gone.



One Door

RDP Wednesday – COALESCE

Attic room by Henry Davis Sleeper (American antiquarian, 1878-1934)

I heard the floorboards in the hallway

outside of my bedroom door creaking

I heard someone take a little breath

from the other side of my door

before they started knocking

sharp little taps that sounded like knuckles in an aged hand popping.


” Are you in there? ” they whispered.  ” Will you let me in? Are you still angry, after all of

this time?  You can’t still be mad. Let me in. Please.  Don’t be mad anymore. ”


I heard the floorboards  inside of her bedroom creaking

and I heard someone take a little breath near my ear after I stopped knocking

it  sounded like old bones shifting in a shroud dusty with age

” I’m not mad. ” it said ” I’m not angry anymore. Come now. Turn around and let’s be

friends.  Just leave your  knife on the hall table-

this time.”