Poodle
Shocking to hear a voice, as the town had felt empty. Behind me stood a curly fur individual, her tone welcoming, and her face shining with a big smile.
“No, I’m just looking for someone. Have you seen a dog like this?”
“Nope, and neither have you! Searching for eight months! Are you tired yet?”
“No, I’m not tired. Where’d you even get that idea from?”
“It’s in your eyes, but you wouldn’t know since you’ve never looked in the mirror in so long.”
Poodles. So nosey. My mother was ¼ poodle. Though I guess that would make me ⅛ poodle, if I’m doing the math correctly. But I don’t think I’m nosey. I’m just curious.
She told me no, yet this poodle keeps her eyes on me, interested in my next move. Does she not have anything better to do? Am I her only focus? Makes sense if I were to live in a dead town like this one.
“You should ask the others about her. But come back around if you need an extra paw.”
No thank you lady. I can handle it myself.
But where are the others in this town?