A mand and his dog (flashfiction)

I wrote this for Zarah, who won a giveaway in which I was offering a flashfiction piece written to a prompt of the winner’s chosing. Zarah’s prompt was “A man and his dog”, and this is what came out of it:

There was a dog on his bed. Dogs liked sleeping on comfortable places, so that shouldn’t have been a surprise. The problem was that Jared didn’t own a dog. He was sure he’d closed all the doors and windows before leaving for work in the morning, so how the hell had the dog got in? He checked everything again, just in case, but the house was just as he’d left it, and it should have been inaccessible from the outside. He went back to the bedroom, shaking his head, trying to convince himself he’d imagined there was a dog sleeping on his bed, but the canine was still there.

He – yes, he, Jared had looked – was an ugly thing too. One of his eyes was missing, his teeth were crooked and his fur was full of white patches that had nothing to do with what looked like the original colour. And still, Jared didn’t want to wake him and throw him out. He took a picture instead, and printed a few posters to hang onto the neighbourhood’s trees. Maybe someone was missing their dog.

He went pout to hang them and found himself closing the door softly as to not wake up his unexpected guest. When he came back, the dog was still asleep, and Jared was surprised by how the calming effect his breath had on him. He sat down on the bed close to the dog, and run his hand down his flank. The dog didn’t wake up, but he shifted slightly closer to him. His fur was raspy, and Jared was determined to give him a bath as soon as he woke up. Between the regularity of the dog’s breaths and the soothing motion of his hand on his fur, he soon fell asleep next to his visitor.

He woke up with a start, and there was still a dog on his bed. He was awake now, his eye focused on Jared, and he’d been lying completely still until he noticed Jared was awake. Then his tail started thumping and a canine grin appeared on his face.

Jared greeted his visitor with a few pats on the head, and spoke softly to him, getting up from the bed and guiding the dog to the bathroom, where they both got completely wet, even if Jared’s plan had only involved getting water on the dog.

A few weeks passed, and no one answered to Jared’s posters, but the dog kept sleeping on his bed, and he was taking Jared out in a regular basis. Jared was sure that should have worked the other way around, but he wasn’t going to complain. The dog was happy, and his happiness was making its way into Jared’s heart, into a place that had been empty and cold for too long; a place that now felt warm every morning when he woke up and found a dog on his bed.

I hope you enjoyed this little story! Comments are always welcome ❤

Announcing FlashFiction Wednesdays!


Welcome! Please come in and have a seat, I won’t take up much of your time 🙂

I’m introducing my Wednesdays to you. I thought this would be a fun way for me to get some writing done and for you to get to know me as a writer. Here’s the plan: every week, you’ll give me a prompt, and I promise to post a flashfiction story based on it here on Wednesday.

What can you give me as a writing prompt? I’m keeping the options open, but here are some ideas:

  • Three words I’ll have to include in a short text.
  • A sentence that’ll have to appear in the flashfiction I’ll be writing.
  • A picture you want me to base a short story on.
  • Whatever else you can think of, really.

How will this work? Leave your ideas for me here in the comments or @ me on Twitter (@LauraBailo). I’ll try to get them done by next Wednesday, but my schedule is kind of crazy right now, so if I get overwhelmed (please, overwhelm me, I love prompts!) I may leave some of them for next week. But I promise I’ll write a short text based on ever prompt I get, no one will be left out.

I hope you like this idea as much as I do, and that you’ll be here next Wednesday to read more of my words. Now, happy prompting!

He was there, I remember

This little short is the first thing I wrote completely in English, so it’s truly especial for me. I thought I’d be perfect to greet you with some of my first words.

When I woke up today, I knew it was going to be one of the rare days; one of the days when I always remember, when I’m my old self again. So I got out of bed and cooked breakfast for myself. It was still weird, cooking just for one, but I had to do it.

You see, I’m losing my memory. There are days when I don’t know where I am or when I don’t even now how to tie my shoelaces. But him, him I always remember, and I always end up cooking for two.

He was there, I remember. He was there at my best friend’s engagementent party. I remember staring at him that night, but I couldn’t make myself go and talk to him, I was a coward. But he was there again some months after that, a wedding guest, and that time it was him who came to introduce himself: “Before you get away again” he said, while he stared at me with those beautiful eyes. We danced every song together that night and he kissed me just as the sun was beginning to rise. I went home with a really rare smile on my face, one I couldn’t shake for the next 30 years, while we lived our lives together, through dating, living together, and our own wedding. We spent our lives dancing, until we were forced to stop, until I was left here without a dancing partner.

I remember him, and I miss him with every fiber of my being. Good days are actually the worst. Those are the days I know he’s not here, and he’s not visiting some friends or working either; those are the days I know he’s not coming back. So I cook for myself and pass the time watching old photos and smiling, thinking of the good life we had together, even if he was taken from me too son. At least we were given the chance to be happy and we took it, and that I know I’ll always remember.

I’m heading to bed now. Tomorrow will probably be a bad day, and I’ll cook for two and wait for him to come home but in the end, I’ll go to bed alone again.