All Alone on Apple Road

by

Andrew Monge

“C’mon, Ralph, let’s go for a drive.”

Oh-boy-oh-boy-oh-boy! Best Friend take me in Wind Machine. He open Home Door, then Wind Machine Door, and I jump into second seat. I scrape paws on final door, one that let in wind. Best Friend put clear door down for me.

We go, my head outside and wind in my eyes, my hair, my mouth. I smile and look back at Best Friend to see his smile.

But Best Friend sad. Oh-no-oh-no-oh-no. I step to him and lick his salty cry water, but he hold big wheel and no look at me or pet me. I look back at wind hole, then lie down on seat and put nose in Best Friend’s lap.

No wind now. And still no pet.

Long trip in Wind Machine, then stop.

“We’re here, Ralph. Go check it out, boy.”

Wind Machine Door open. Best Friend go out, I go out. Grass. Trees. What that smell? Smell-smell-smell. Ahh, there it is. That smell my smell now. Potty time.

Click.

Best Friend in Wind Machine with door shut. It leavewithout me?

Red lights big.

Small.

Gone.

Best Friend?

Oh-no-oh-no-oh-no.

Best Friend? Where did you go, Best Friend?

***

Bio:

Andrew Monge (Twitter: @MuchAdoAboutNil) lives in Minnesota with his wife and kids. A computer programmer by day and a voracious reader by night, he is a lifelong introvert who only finds his voice while writing. His work has appeared in Punk Noir Magazine.