No Longer Working

by Sistah Shoop


She hadn’t planned to play so early in the morning, but it wasn’t really early was it. She had slept in, through the hours of getting boys off to school and her normal first cup of coffee.

The restless night still hung around Sistah Shoop as she stumbled over the ball that had been dropped at her feet. The thoughts that had called to her through the night weighted her down. Only by taking Aleve could the pain that clung to Sistah Shoop’s spirit be eliminated.

He poked at her legs following with ball in mouth. She filled the cup with cold water and took the medicine that would free her from her burden. He looked toward the back door. And Sistah Shoop agreed thinking it would lighten the load that rattled ceaselessly in her mind.

"Throw the ball! Throw the ball!" Foster, the dog begged darting out the door in front of her.

Sistah Shoop picked it up and felt the day’s warmth on her back. She tossed the ball and he ran only to bring it back seconds later.

"Throw the ball! Throw the ball!" he begged dropping it at her feet. "Throw it!"

And they did this over and over again until he brought it back, only this time without surrender, he continued to play with it, tossing it up and catching it on his own.

"So you’ve come across something you can’t ignore for once in your life." He said as he jumped and caught the ball in his mouth.

Sistah Shoop looked at him knowing he knew.

"You’re upset that you can’t run away from your responsibilities, especially the ones you don’t like much." He dropped the ball and nosed it toward her. "How’d you get away with it for so long?"

It upset her knowing he had figured it out. She thought the racket was pretty well hidden, even from herself. Sistah Shoop chuckled at the insanity of it all, "It isn’t working for me anymore, and I don’t understand why."

He nosed the ball toward her and sat, his day was a good day in contrast, "Throw the ball."

"I don’t know what to do, Foster." The sadness layered throughout the sound of her voice.

"Throw the ball!" he replied standing, then barked at the ball now lying at her feet. Sistah Shoop picked it up and stared off toward the mountains and mesas they called their back yard.

"Throw the ball, darn it! So you can’t hide anymore, big deal. Throw the friggin’ ball! It’ll be the start of something new." He scolded and pointed in the direction of where the ball should land. Perhaps where Sistah Shoop should throw herself, toward the vast space between what was and what had now become obvious and the warmth of a spring sun.


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