Hope on the run

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Hope on the run

On the dusty road to Chihuahua, Hope trembled as cars passed him by. He had seen what happened when dogs and cats and armadillos picked a fight with a car. Not a pretty sight. He wanted to get home safely. Home was far away from where he had been left at the rest stop. He had waited two days before deciding that he would just have to find his own way back. Finding food wasn't so hard. Cars left litter and Hope wasn't picky. He still wore the pink napkin his young mistress put around his neck; he missed her.

At night he hid in shadows. The base of a wall. The cave of a culvert. Anywhere dry, calm and quiet. He listened for the hiss of snakes, the scurry of rats. He made himself as small and invisible as possible. Cockroaches were a handy snack.

He kept to the road. Home was closer if he went across the parched land but "there be dragons" and lizards and who-knows-what between him and home. The road was safer as long as he didn't walk on it.

A few cars passed by but never stopped. He came across some that were parked but they didn't smell like his mistress or the enchiladas she fed him at home.

It was a lonesome journey. Short legs made it long as well.

Ah, this turnoff looked familiar.

Hope smelled something wrong. The trees were still there but where were the houses? One lone critter eyed him from behind a wall.

He stood where the house he once called home stood not-so-long-ago. All gone.

He sniffed then turned around. If his mistress were here his nose would know.

He adjusted his kerchief and headed back to the rest stop. Maybe she would come look for him there. Wherever he was — there was always hope.

© Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [178.361] (9.februar.2022)

~500 words