man’s best friend

 The old rail road tracks outside of Scranton is a place of comfort and confusion for him. There is a small blue tennis shoe just off the tracks that belongs to the little boy that has been missing for weeks. The dog can smell his boy on the shoe, and everyday he sits next to it and waits. The dog knows that the train did not take his boy because there is no blood on or around the tracks, and something instinctual tells him that if there had been blood then there would be the relief that it was quick and painless. The dog knows where his boy’s scent leads to, but he always runs away in terror from the old shack that sits about three miles back into the woods. So he waits by the shoe everyday, waiting for his boy to come back for his missing shoe, he waits for hours, days, and the days turn to years.


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