jumpingfish

The window’s open. The front door’s open. And the back patio, too.

A CD’s spinning in my computer. The volume on the stereo is turned way up.

I’m on my feet. I’m singing. I’m dancing. Trudy’s not so into this. But Guinness is. He’s in here barking with me while I sing.

Man’s best friend. But then he runs out of the room.

The music’s still playing, and I’m standing in the middle of the study singing alone. But seconds later, he comes scrambling around the corner carrying his blue dog in his mouth. Music like this definitely calls for a blue dog.

And now we’re singing together again.

Trudy shuts the front door. I crank the window open wider. “Come on, Guinness! It’s just you and me.”