He’s pounding the pavement late night incognito. A Street dog espied him and showed him around.

So much had changed since he left. As he paused by the pond—his childhood friend—he noticed a shadowy figure stepping out of an apartment door closeby. The lady, her eyelids drooping, went past him as if he didn’t exist, talking to herself: “Just now I’d a dream of my long-lost friend waiting outside our door. Where’s he?”

As she’s walking back home muttering under her breath, he felt the urge to hold her tight. But oddly, he could neither move nor speak.

First published in f3

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