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Distant Barking Dogs photo

My father and I are facing each other with nothing more to say to one another. 

A dog barks in the distance. 

My father adjusts his glasses on his nose. 

Another dog barks in the distance, a smaller dog, higher pitched. 

The first dog barks again. 

The second dog barks back. 

The first dog barks. Second dog. First dog. Third dog joins in. Then a fourth. Then a cacophony and I lose track of the dogs barking in a distance, down the quiet street where my father and I have nothing left to say to one another. 

A wolf howls in the distance, and I think about the concept of danger. 

The group of four plus dogs continue to bark and I think about turning around, but fear witnessing a dog orgy which would ruin the seriousness of the conversation my father and I just had that has left us muted. 

I fear the wolf may be involved, but I can’t turn around without lessening the impact of our seriousness. 

Bark. Bark bark. 

Howl. The minds of my generation are focused in on this moment, none more important than the one between my father and I, but the minds are focused on the barking. They don’t want to be, but they are. The minds are mine and my father’s, who have nothing more to say to one another.

The dogs bark in the approaching distance. 

My father adjusts his glasses and looks like he has something to confess, but hesitates. I hope he will say something to clear the air and replenish the recent misdeeds from the news we shared, but I fear it will be about the growing dog orgy as the roars of barks grow behind me. 

Bark. Bark. 

Howl. Bark. 

In the distance, the dogs bark, and my father adjusts his glasses, in lieu of something to say to one another.


image: Carabella Sands