Scene One – PERSISTENT – Pine View Lodge, Hayward, Wisconsin, July 1964
“Bobby, I’m glad you showed up.” Sally’s eyes meet mine. “You are persistent, I’ll say. I wish Butch had paid more attention to me.”
“Ah–” I lift my gaze to Sally’s. “I mean, when you didn’t call back last month, I decided to drive up. Fishing season is over, but I wanted to see if I could find you at the lodge.”
“So, you did.” She sips her coffee. “I owe you an apology for not answering your calls. I wasn’t ready to talk with anyone. Butch had just left me–”
A Boston Bulldog pulls right, then left against a taught leash in lower Manhattan. He searches for non-existent grass or bare earth on which to find relief. Soon, he drops his excrement on the sidewalk. A man at the other end of the leash bends to clean the walk while the dog scratches unyielding concrete in a futile attempt to cover his spoil. The man yanks the leash. “That’s enough of that, Bingo. We have to move on.”
About the Author
I write personal essays, creative non-fiction, flash fiction, and self-development articles from my home in Madison, Wisconsin.