Caffeinated Haze

Dreaming of Old Friends.

I can hear his whining, soft and muffled through the accursed door, the sad sounds fueling my determination and my desperation at the same time. 

Leaning against the cold gray cinder blocks, I work my way around to the back of the garage.

“A window - I can use the window to get to him.” I thought as my eyes began looking for something, anything to break the damn thing. I spotted a stack of firewood leaning against a house next door. I quickly retrieved one from the large stack and promptly heaved it through the window. The sound of the glass breaking rang out alerting the world to what i was doing.

I pulled myself up and over the broken glass, I could feel the small pieces cutting and burrowing deeper into my skin. With a thud I hit the concrete floor, 

I sat up with a jerk, my mind still processing what was real and what was a dream. I leaned forwarded  looking over the edge of my bed for my faithful four legged friend of 16 years. He spot was empty, his name was on the tip of my tongue, I stopped short of actually speaking it. With a shake of my head I stood up and with sadness I made my way downstairs.

I sipped my tea while sitting at my desk, the harsh glow from my computer monitor lighting the room. I opened a drawer and pulled out a sealed box. Silently I felt the tears roll down my cheeks as I place a hand on the lid. The cold realization washing over me again,  that even if I called him, he would never come bounding over, to place his head in my lap for a scratch between the ears.   I know I did the right thing, he was suffering and I couldn’t stand to watch that. It was a kindness for him, and pure agony for me.