a dog other than sam or buddy, i mean. this one's invisible, but i can hear him or her clacking across the floors while the other two are curled up at my feet. i can hear her or him licking at the food bowls, lapping at the water. i can him or her padding down the upstairs hallway when the other two are downstairs with me on their leashes.
i can tell it's a playful energy, not something to be afraid of. sam and buddy are aware of it, but exhibit no signs of fear at all. but they look in the same direction i do, ears perked. they sniff and stare. it seems to know its way around the house. i believe it to be the same Presence i sensed about the house just before my friend lorraine died.
i have no idea what the Presence may portend. whatever it is, i am quite sure that over it, i have no control.
just like today. walk me anywhere, i said to my friend. she thought i was going to be late, even though i showed up precisely on time. i think we can shape time to our will more readily than most of us believe, and today was one of those days, when my physical therapy ran late.
i loved being walked. it was sheer bliss to surrender any possible expectation or even inclination, and to allow someone else to set the pace, the tone and the direction. it was as simple and sweet and nourishing as rice pudding, fattening and rich as deep-fried beignets.
it led to an interesting discussion regarding my WIP. i'd been feeling something was missing, something i wasn't quite sure of, something i couldn't quite put my finger on. was it Magic, i wondered, and yet the point of the story seemed to be to engage in the workings of a less literal Magic.
and then the lady who was walking me offered me an observation, such a simple observation really, that i had completely overlooked, a way to make the story more than "just" a romance as Beloved so dismisssingly observed. what about the child, she asked. wouldn't the heroine miss the child?
and of course she would.
im being walked again on thursday. i can't wait to see what happens next.