Observer by Ella
I stare out the window of our apartment.
My breath leaving a steamy circle on the pane.
A gray, dull, blank city looms above me with an unexpected pop of color here or there.
A red umbrella cartwheeling down the sidewalk.
A blue raincoat anticipating a downpour from the dreadful sky.
Staring at our small alley gives no comfort.
A once blooming garden is dead, littered with trash
An animal with its tail between its legs lets out a sorrowful whine.
Like the wind whispering through the windows at night.
It chills me to the bone just as the cold air does.
Someone is throwing rocks at the mutt,
My hands begin to sweat, nervous for the small, lost, lonely stray.
The person runs away, and the dog is alone once again.
Not thinking twice, I pull the old afghan off of my bed, already running out the door and down the multiple floors to the alleyway,
I scoop up the shaking-like-a-leaf dog,
And, fast as I can, race up the steps to the apartment.
And I stroke him, lamenting of how I know nothing of how to console this mutt-of-broken-demeanor.
But I do know one thing,
His name will be Hope.
Because that’s what he gave me, in this gray, dull, lonely city.