Previously published in (Nо̄D, Issue 28)

There’s moss on one side but I pocket the rock anyway. Overkill I’m sure, but better this than nothing. I stand up as the leash pulls at my waist. I need to keep up with my companion who’s stopped where the path turns. I approach, coiling our long nylon cord like a lasso.

            A turn requires a safety check. Peer around corners and hug the perimeter. I’ve stopped participating but I keep an eye on his tail. Up? Fine. Puffy?  Run. 

            Today, I luxuriate in time. A sparrow observes me from a lilac branch. Leaves glow neon green. Thin red lines streak petals. Scents of plant sex waft by. I close my eyes and see scarlet veins on pink. I breathe. One Mississippi. I open back to this world, content, and scan his tail. 

            My heart skips. 

            He’s rigid as a taxidermy.

            I use my height to peer beyond the turn where I glimpse orange firmly-planted paws. I don’t need to see more. The Orange roams silent and free of footsteps.

            My companion’s lowered haunches means he’ll stand his ground. The Orange will too. I check my watch. A stand-off can take hours. I have scars from my first, when I waved my leg to shoo the invader. Go home, I’d said, like I had any say. Not my fight to fight, and a hard lesson to learn as my companion pierced my flesh.

            No. The Orange must flee and we must chase. That is, unless I help unseen. I have dinner to start. I grip the mossy rock and whip it near the orange paws. Our leash unspools from its lasso loops. I lean back, bracing for the hard, familiar yank.