by Enoc Flores

Created on: December 17, 2010   Last Updated: February 24, 2011

 I’m standing in the living room of the house I grew up. It’s strange. I haven’t been here in years. The house is a classic Spanish house that resembles more like a big rectangle with a door.  It’s dark and I hear animal footsteps on the roof. When I was a child we used to own a dog. Blacky was his name. He died when I was fifteen. It sounds just like him when he used to be excited. I start making my way to my brother’s room. It’s on the second floor and it leads to the roof. The noise keeps growing louder and I start feeling a knot in my throat. I start feeling anxiety.  I reach the door and I opened it. Blacky comes running and keeps barking excitedly. Just like when he use to see me when I brought his food.

“Oh God, please don’t do this” I say.

My hands are empty and I don’t have anything to give him. I start feeling the anxiety to increase and the lump in my throat to tighten.

 “I’m sorry… I’m sorry.”

 I start backing up slowly and close the door. Before it closes all the way I can see that he stops and stares at me. It is as if he is trying to figure out what’s going on. I never understood how dogs had so much facial expressions. How can I make him understand… and worst it is not the first time I had this dream. I open my eyes and I can still feel the anxiety but the lump in my throat is gone. When I move my head I can feel the sides of my face wet. I cried in my sleep again. I turn to my right to avoid been seen by my wife. Unfortunately the movement wakes her up.

“Good morning” she says.

I don’t answer because I’m afraid that my voice will give me away.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

I think we been married too long. She knows me too well already.

“Yes” I answer.

 “What happened?” She asked.

“Remember that I told you once that there was a time in my youth that I lived with friends of the family. Well, those years were really difficult financially speaking. There were some days that we had very little food for us. Remember about Blacky? The dog I grew up with?“

“Yes, I remember” she said.

“Well, if there were days that we had very little food, can you imagine what the dog ate?”

She was silent as if picturing the situation.

"Rice… steamed rice to be precise. Every night that I fed him I remember his excitement when saw

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