THE EXCITING JOURNEY OF Writing
a Fictional Book
"IT'S A LUXURY BEING A WRITER,
BECAUSE ALL YOU EVER THINK ABOUT IS LIFE."
BECAUSE ALL YOU EVER THINK ABOUT IS LIFE."
“Mmmmmm, mmmm.” The small dog paced up and down the bed in an attempt to get her owner's attention.
Beneath her warm goose down comforter Lucy said, “Stop it Misty, we'll go out soon.”
Lucy slapped the bed with a burst of authority and said, “Lie down Misty, can't you just hold it and let mommy sleep?” She wanted to return to her sensual dream.
The Maltese leaped off the bed and ran down the hall demanding her owner react quickly. Misty's owner was perfectly trained. Half asleep, Lucy tossed back the covers and rolled out of her comfortable bed into the room's morning chill. The moment her feet collided with the icy terra cotta floor Lucy was awake.
Images of Misty jumping off the bed and pushing through her own doggy door filled Lucy's head as she shuffled through the house. When she peeked out through the backdoor's window her dream of uninterrupted sleep quickly vanished. The large black garbage container was lying on its side with most of the garbage strewn around the backyard.
“Damn raccoons,” she said.
Lucy shivered at the thought of the furry creatures, with their cartoon faces, destroying the house's interior while she and Misty slept. All courtesy of the doggy door.
Her little dog frantically scratched against the wood to escape. “No walk Misty I'm letting you out back and that's it,” she said as she opened the door. Misty scurried to the small patch of grass sniffing out the perfect location before relieving herself.
“Mommy wants to go back to bed, please. Look the sun's not even up yet.”
Relieved and self absorbed, the small dog meandered around no longer in a hurry to return to the warm bed.
“Damn it Misty.” Lucy stomped her bare foot as if her dog would obey. “Come here now. Misty don't make me mad. No, don't roll in the wet grass, oh please no.” Closing her eyes in a feeble attempt to capture the last bit of sleep Lucy leaned her head against the door jamb. In a barely audible voice she called out. “Come here now.”
Lucy forgot the swift moving storm that passed over the city the night before leaving millions of dollars in damage. Luckily, the only problem for Lucy Olivos was Misty's water soaked white fur coat in need of attention. Her sleep gone, Lucy grabbed a large towel from the hamper and sank to the floor. She crossed her legs, which Misty took as an invitation for pampering. The dog jumped onto her owner's lap.
Enveloping the Maltese in the soft cotton material Lucy went to work drying her dog's coat. She was rewarded with a warm, small, pink tongue bestowing gentle kisses on her hand.
Wrapping her arms around her pet like she was holding a child Lucy smothered the dog with her own kisses. “You're one spoiled little dog you know that. How did you get this way?” Pushing herself up she said, “All right, we're done.”
Misty hopped off her owner's lap and scooted to the front door before Lucy could return to her comfortable bed. She began whining, demanding her morning walk.
“No, not before mommy makes a cup of coffee. Just sit still and we'll leave in fifteen minutes.”
Except for a few lingering clouds the sky was clear, and the sun was still asleep. Lucy and Misty stepped out into the crisp cool air. The chill touched her face like a splash of spring water. She timed her walk perfectly, the sun still hidden from view, rays of gold and crimson streaked across the placid sky. It was the beginning of a new day with new possibilities, the sort of morning one savors. She filled her lungs with air, which all but disappeared when she heard her neighbor's voice. Mr. Johnson, the only other person up at this hour.
“Good morning Lucille, Misty, how are you?”
“Fine, Mr. Johnson thanks,” said Lucy acting as cold as one of the Queen's Guard in front of Buckingham Palace.
Ignorantly writing her standoffish attitude to PMS he said, “After all this time you know Lucille you can call me Ralph.”
“It's okay Mr. Johnson.”
Lucy felt her neighbor's eyes undressing her as she walked away. It made her skin crawl to know had she worn 16th century armor and walked pigeon toed Ralph Johnson would still find her alluring.
Before disappearing into the small side street she glanced back and was disgusted her neighbor stood staring in her direction. Lucy and her dog turned and meandered down the narrow lane a few yards before Lucy unhooked Misty's leash, allowing the small dog to roam freely. She paused and sipped her hot morning coffee. With little effort she drifted back into a Zen like trance.
Her mind briefly dusted past her job and today's workload, she was a telecommuter at a large insurance company. Her thoughts shifted to something more personal, Ernie, a man she met three days earlier. No email or text from her new love interest tested her patience. She wanted to sleep with him but not until after their first date.
Her mind refocused hearing Misty's incessant yelping, but the dog was nowhere in sight.
Panicking, Lucy said, “Misty, Misty where are you?” The little white dog popped its head out from around the corner of a building. “There you are, come here now.”
Misty vanished from view barking ferociously.
“Damn it, come here now. Misty do you hear me?”
Lucy capitulated, another sign Misty was in charge, and walked over to her barking dog.
“What's wrong with you?” Lucy froze. Misty was barking at the rain soaked body of a man lying against a building. He was facing the wall. His clothes disheveled, empty pockets pulled inside out. She felt bad the homeless man slept in the rain, but convinced there was nothing she could do said, “Leave the man alone Misty, come here quickly.”
The dog, less than a foot from the body, continued barking. Lucy scooped Misty in her arms and jumped back when she saw the dead man's discolored face.
“Help,” she screamed running to the corner. She pulled out her phone to dial, a text message from Ernie. She dialed 911.