I turn out the light on the nightstand and roll onto my side to sleep.
“Raud, do you believe in souls?” Fleegle asks in the darkness.
“Yes. Do you?”
“I don’t know. Do I get one too or are they another one of those things only people get, like remotes? Do dogs have souls? Do I have a soul? Dogs definitely don’t get remotes.”
“I believe you do, and you’re probably more in touch with it than most people are theirs.”
“You can touch your soul? Can I carry it like a stick?”
“It’s with you whether you carry it or not.”
“Oh, like a run in with a skunk.”
“Some say you are your soul more so than your body, and the soul carries the body like you would a stick, and when you die it’s the same as dropping the stick and picking up a new one.”
“The new stick being a new body?”
“That would be reincarnation.”
“As a stick.” He’s quiet for a moment. I can feel him thinking in the darkness. “I wouldn’t want to be reincarnated as a stick, not after all the ones I’ve chewed up.”
“That would be your karma.”
“You mean my soul comes with a car? It better have a sunroof.”
Next Negotiating with Cookies: Doughnut Breeds
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The wind gusted toward the house and the rain hit the picture window. As the drops trickled down the pain they joined with others, became larger and formed unexpected shapes. Warm inside on the couch, Aaron watched Super Bowl highlights on the big screen. Upset with the loss of his team, he comforted himself with a family size bag of Doritos. Comfort food. He floated through life on a bed of comfort food, and if it weren’t for the increasing effects of gravity on his body he wouldn’t give it any thought.
A strong blast of rain hit the windowpane like a smack to the face and when Aaron glanced away from the game highlights he swore the splattered raindrops had taken the form of the Pillsbury Doughboy, hat and all. His glance turned into a stare as the Doughboy’s little donut shaped mouth began forming words. Aaron hit the mute button on the remote. At first he heard nothing but the rustle of leaves in the wind outside, but then he might’ve heard a high pitched squeaking but couldn’t be sure. He scooted to the edge of the couch cushions, heaved himself up and went to the window. Continue reading “Craugis”
I believe in reincarnation, not because I grew up with the belief or because I have proof that people’s souls live life after life, but because my earliest memory is of dying. Sometime in the 1800s, I was badly injured as a young man while on an expedition in a land far from my home. I remember laying down in the thick grass on a hillside, too weak to continue, and wondering how I was ever going finish this trek when there were thousands of miles left, let alone get back home to family and friends. Then I closed my eyes and died. Continue reading “Dog Souls”