Gone

Frantic, I ran from the house to look for the dog. The yard looked bizarre. Pale light cast over my home. My golden retreiver seemed ghostly. He led me to the field next to our home. It was desolate, save dozens of graves with perfect granite tombstones, some engraved, some bare. I surveyed the acre and noticed the supernatural maze of relationships symbolized by rock tablets. I walked barefoot aside the dog to the first row of stones. There was no wind, no cold, the weather was dead. I read the first engravings, they were people I missed, deeply. As my dog and I walked through the strange labryrinth of forgotten, I realized the tomstones were laid out by importance. Some were necessary to see and read, others were ignored, just piles of concrete. My four legged gride began to change face and look normal. He was hungry. I awoke to the sound of the dog barking. Stunned, I peeked outside and saw a peaceful, usual yard. The past was gone.

My spine chilled, brain scrambled, I walked into the hot shower and felt peaceful. I started to dry off and the dog was back. The eerie look was back. I threw on jeans and a t-shirt and followed the golden outside. the Yard was supernatural again, this time the spirits were above ground, appearing to congregate. I turned and walked back inside. The dog followed. We were done. We were moving on.


*blogger's note* this is part of 52/250 's flash fiction site. Every week they presenta  theme, this week's is TOMBSTONES, just in time for Halloween. http://52250flash.wordpress.com/

provided I'm cool enough, they'll post this entry on their site later the week.

Thanks for reading