A train stops. I stand in anticipation. My tail wags. People get on and off. Bells ding. The train pulls away. I sit back down. There will be another.
My companion is more patient. She sulks through it all. Perhaps she can smell your train before it gets here. She is an uncanny girl.
I look at her finger dancing over the flat stone. I’ve sniffed it before, when she wasn’t looking. She needs a frisbee. Or a ball. The girl is not you.
The tracks run off into the distance. I watch for the next train. Come home soon.
Picture is copyright by Charlotte Tai.