He Wasn't Home

[butterflydreaming]

Someone should have told the woman that not only did her blacks not match, but that the dull outfit -- sneakers, unflattering pants and a non-descript, long-sleeved top -- looked terrible. She tied her dog to the tree outside the Harbor Steps apartment complex by clipping the chipper animal's leash around one of the neatly pruned birch trees in the sidewalk. After a few steps into the open lobby of the building, she turned back and returned to the pet. The blonde woman unclipped the leash, walked away, turned around and returned to the same tree, and clipped up the dog again. This time she walked inside to the elevator.

"Is she coming back?"

"I had the same thought when she walked up. That she was abandoning the dog."

We watched. The dog, some kind of long-haired collie mix, sat happily wagging his tail and looking at everyone that walked by.

"She said she was going out to walk the dog, but she's having an affair with someone in the building. Dog walking booty call."

"That's why she looked nervous. Why she changed her mind, and changed her mind again."

Minutes and buses passed. We ate our pastries and watched. The woman came out again, looking angry. She grabbed the dog's leash and released him from the tree without acknowledging the animal in any way. She pulled him along after her with brusque, furious motions. They disappeared out of sight.

"He wasn't home."

"He said it was over. She went to see him this morning."

"But he wasn't home."

"Hm."