Bonnie

A streak of light dashed across the prairie sky like a shooting swash of paint, glistening, almost boasting to the world how dazzling it was.

I had chased Bonnie across the deep grass and countless gullies. She had spooked the transient travellers hiding in the hay barn and given chase. Loyal and slightly crazy dog that she was I imagine any thought of resting for her was untenable.

Our unwanted visitors had the presence of mind to crank up the old man’s Model T and skedaddle down the Berringer Road short cut, likely turning east or west onto the highway at Bowker Junction.

Mud would have slowed them down but the Ford had some pep. Not much, but some.

Bonnie had a bucketful of pep as well and might have caught up to them if they’d remained on foot. Of course, she only liked the chase and was a pussycat at heart.

After an hour of chasing the dog, I was fully winded and threw myself into the soft damp sward, spreading my weary limbs wide, and relaxed.

Staring at the black and blue sky, the yellow drift of light still sparkling large, all I wanted was my dog back and the world to be as it had always been.

This is my response to Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge # 9, Rainbow.

 

after the storm