Wednesday, March 9, 2011

brevity/vomit

I don't know what the dog had eaten for Fat Tuesday, but by the morning it was on the living-room carpet. The dog stood hungover, nose to the door, pleading in a silent chant; "open the door... open the door... just open the damn door."


--yea the day got better. The dog got better... I may however use this morning's vomit in my great American novel someday.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I can see his sad little face, leaning his fevered doggie brow against the door... :( Mom