| General Fiction posted August 24, 2022 |
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Flash Fiction
Toby
by zanya
Flash Fiction Contest Winner
Toby jumped up on the window ledge beneath the lace curtain. Catching sight of a cat on the front lawn, he barked loudly.
The August sun was losing its summer heat. An autumn chill was in the air. Soon evenings would grow short. Aston village would again become quiet as visitors departed.
George logged on to his laptop to check the state of the world. He was grateful to be back in the office after the pandemic.
Energy bills preoccupied him. Since his beloved Anna's passing, a year earlier from Covid, holding on to his homestead was becoming increasingly challenging.
Grief slowed him down. He was happy to have a sentient being in the household. Toby, a five- year- old Labrador had lifted George out of the doldrums.
Having had no dog since his son Jake had grown up, George had forgotten those loyal canine ways. A rescue dog from the local centre,Toby was fearful at first, but gradually grieving husband and abandoned canine began to develop a sense of trust.
Learning of Toby's abandonment through the local newsletter, George decided it might be a good idea to have a dog for outings during the pandemic.
The pair became inseparable.
As a winter of fuel shortages loomed, due to the war in Europe, George considered returning Toby to the centre.
That evening, he planned on taking Toby back to the Dog Rescue.
Did dogs sense when something unpleasant might happen?
As George grabbed his car keys Toby sat upright. He knew his master was leaving for the day. As the door slammed Toby settled into his spot on the window to watch the world go by.
While George sped along to work, he wrestled with the idea of returning Toby.
In the evening, turning into the driveway, he looked towards the window where Toby usually sat.
Toby was nowhere to be seen.
Turning the key in the front door, all was quiet. No sound of Toby's paws pattering on the wooden floor.
Did Toby suspect what lay in store for him? Did he escape?
George knew he would have to advise the Dog shelter and arrange another appointment.
The lady on the other end of the phone was pragmatic,
"O.K sir. Clients sometimes feel a pang of regret. Anyway, please advise the shelter."
George was now in a quandary. He missed Toby. Missed looking into Toby's emerald green eyes, an unusual color for dog eyes, they told him at the shelter.
The house was quiet apart from the hum of technology.
How would he tell his colleagues that Toby had run away?
George ascended the wooden staircase. Toby's doggie bed still lay on the landing.
George's bedroom door was ajar. Toby's white paws stuck out beneath the bed. He snored rhythmically.
George was dumbfounded. Toby never came into the bedroom.
Jumping up, Toby licked his master's face.
George's dilemma was solved. Bills might soar but Toby's bed and board were assured.
***************************
Toby jumped up on the window ledge beneath the lace curtain. Catching sight of a cat on the front lawn, he barked loudly.
The August sun was losing its summer heat. An autumn chill was in the air. Soon evenings would grow short. Aston village would again become quiet as visitors departed.
George logged on to his laptop to check the state of the world. He was grateful to be back in the office after the pandemic.
Energy bills preoccupied him. Since his beloved Anna's passing, a year earlier from Covid, holding on to his homestead was becoming increasingly challenging.
Grief slowed him down. He was happy to have a sentient being in the household. Toby, a five- year- old Labrador had lifted George out of the doldrums.
Having had no dog since his son Jake had grown up, George had forgotten those loyal canine ways. A rescue dog from the local centre,Toby was fearful at first, but gradually grieving husband and abandoned canine began to develop a sense of trust.
Learning of Toby's abandonment through the local newsletter, George decided it might be a good idea to have a dog for outings during the pandemic.
The pair became inseparable.
As a winter of fuel shortages loomed, due to the war in Europe, George considered returning Toby to the centre.
That evening, he planned on taking Toby back to the Dog Rescue.
Did dogs sense when something unpleasant might happen?
As George grabbed his car keys Toby sat upright. He knew his master was leaving for the day. As the door slammed Toby settled into his spot on the window to watch the world go by.
While George sped along to work, he wrestled with the idea of returning Toby.
In the evening, turning into the driveway, he looked towards the window where Toby usually sat.
Toby was nowhere to be seen.
Turning the key in the front door, all was quiet. No sound of Toby's paws pattering on the wooden floor.
Did Toby suspect what lay in store for him? Did he escape?
George knew he would have to advise the Dog shelter and arrange another appointment.
The lady on the other end of the phone was pragmatic,
"O.K sir. Clients sometimes feel a pang of regret. Anyway, please advise the shelter."
George was now in a quandary. He missed Toby. Missed looking into Toby's emerald green eyes, an unusual color for dog eyes, they told him at the shelter.
The house was quiet apart from the hum of technology.
How would he tell his colleagues that Toby had run away?
George ascended the wooden staircase. Toby's doggie bed still lay on the landing.
George's bedroom door was ajar. Toby's white paws stuck out beneath the bed. He snored rhythmically.
George was dumbfounded. Toby never came into the bedroom.
Jumping up, Toby licked his master's face.
George's dilemma was solved. Bills might soar but Toby's bed and board were assured.
***************************
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Writing Prompt Write a story that has 500 words or less. Any topic. |
Flash Fiction Contest Winner |
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Just a 'feel good' doggie tale !
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and 2 member cents. Just a 'feel good' doggie tale !
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