When Darkness Falls

Strange Sights

“Katchoo!” I rub my nose, wincing as my tender skin stings. I hate being sick. Legitimately. I know most people say that, but they get over it in a few days, maybe a week. I’ve been sick for WEEKS. See? A legitimate excuse if I say so myself. I look down to see Zeus staring at me, his tail wagging slightly and his milky brown eyes staring at me. I realize that I have spoken my thoughts out loud, and ask him, “What are you looking at? Ever seen a sick guy like me speak before?”

His tongue drops out of his mouth, hanging loosely as he climbs up my leg to rest his head on my lap. “What do you want bud? Love? A Treat? Oh, how about a good looking female for you to talk to, seeing as I can’t understand you?” At that, he begins to pant, his eyes alive as his tail begins to wag furiously, and I can’t help but say, “Yeah, me too bud, me too.”

I heave the big dog off me, relieving the pressure off my thigh and I hear him land with a *thud* as his paws hit the ground. I heave myself up, after many tries and fails, and stand up but nearly fall to the ground because my leg fell asleep. As I stay put shaking my leg to regain feeling in my leg, he stays right next to me. I reach down to pet him, his soft brown fur gliding through my fingers as I scratch his special spot and as a result he begins to shake his leg. “Yeah buddy that’s right, you shake that leg! Now go lie down and make sure the couch doesn’t disappear before I get back, I think I can get to the kitchen myself.” He understands my meaning, and he wanders off and sits next to the couch though his eyes never leave me.

I take a step toward, or at least in the direction of, the kitchen as my robes hang loosely around my ankles. I take another and I notice a slight limp, probably due to my sleepy leg. I slip a glance towards Zeus, and there he is, staring at me. God I love that dog. I continue my slow pace, passing through the door way as I make my way into the kitchen and the floor is bathed in light from the setting sun. For the two seconds I am in that light warmth floods over my body, especially my feet, but the second I am out of that pool of heaven I am back in the cool shadows of my house where it is noticeably colder. I stop moving and stand still for a second, contemplating whether or not I want to go back into that pool of warmth, and for that second I am not against such an act, but then I think otherwise and my thoughts go back to the real goal: cold, delicious, damn good orange juice.

As my fingers touch the cool handle a shiver runs up my arm, and I pull it open only to get a blast of cold air and a sight of my desires, that orange juice. I pull out the carton and suddenly I am met with an impossible decision: grabbing a glass to pour the juice in, or drinking from the carton itself. It should be a simple choice, and if I wasn’t sick it’d be a quick one, but my tongue is at stake and it NEEDS orange juice. Now. Plus, I am way too lazy to pour a freaking drink in a cup. I am sick damn it, and I am going to act like it. I raise the carton to my lips, and my mouth waters in anticipation as skin and plastic touches my throat suddenly parched. Oh, I am going to like this… A LOT.

As the first drop hits my eager tongue, I nearly gasp. I mean seriously, this juice has never been fully appreciated by me until now, and I doubt I will ever love another juice as I love this one. The tanginess, the sweet taste of this heavenly gift washes over me, and as I take the first gulp, the worst thing that could happen, happens.

“Katchoo!” Not only do I sneeze, I lose all of that juice. Hell, I barely had enough time to even acknowledge the fact that I sneezed until half of it was out of my mouth! I hear a soft thud, and sure enough Zeus comes trotting in the kitchen, see’s the spilled orange juice, and begins to lick it up. Lucky dog. “Zeus,” he looks up at me, brown eyes twinkling and wet nose twitching, “You disgust me.”

He gives me a look as if to say, “Yeah well screw you too Mark,” and goes back to lapping up all of the orange juice off the floor. As I pass through the kitchen entrance, my eyes catch the time. 6:30 pm. Why does it feel so late then? I sigh and keep walking back towards the couch, my feet feeling as heavy as bricks as they drag across my carpet. I reach the couch and nearly throw myself on it, letting out a breath of relief as I sink into it and look out my window.