Barbara had been waiting at the table for twenty minutes. it had been twenty long and excruciating minutes. David had promised that he would be on time today. He never was, but he had promised this one time. She had made him repeat the promise multiple times over the last week until she’d believed his promise. Now she was paying the price.

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The shades were closed keeping the room dark. Peter knew that he should open them and let in the sunlight so he could begin the day, but he didn’t have the energy or willpower. Nothing had gone as expected the day before and he no longer wanted to spend the energy to begin a new day. He stared at the shades wondering if there was a way to disappear from the reality of the world for the rest of the day.

What if dogs were racist? Would they care about fur color….. “son, only play with other tan dogs”? Or maybe it would depend on breed, “honey, only play with other German Shepards, never poodles”. Better yet it could depend on occupation. “I’m a sled dog while you’re only a running companion, leave me alone”. Maybe the neighborhood they live in could be the way they choose which dogs to associate with and which to shun?

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Although Scott said it didn’t matter to him, he knew deep inside that it did. They had been friends as long as he could remember and not once had he had to protest that something Joe apologized for doing didn’t really matter. Scott stuck to his lie and insisted again and again that everything was fine as Joe continued to apologize. Scott already knew that despite his words accepting the apologies that their friendship would never be the same.

Stormi is a dog. She is dark grey and has long legs. Her eyes are expressive and are able to let her humans know what she is thinking. Her tongue is long, pink, and wet. Her long legs allow her to sprint after other dogs, people or bunnies. She can be a good dog, but also very bad. Her tail wags when happy or excited and hides between her back legs when she is bad.

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