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All You Need Is...

love or some other L word.

By Bianca CorneliusPublished 10 months ago 3 min read
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All You Need Is...
Photo by chester wade on Unsplash

I spent my birthday alone, even though I lived in a house full of people. They even forgot it was my birthday. At least not one of my seven housemates acknowledged it at any point during those sweet 24 hours of specialness.

I spent the day with a borrowed dog instead. I guess the owner and I did each other a favour with my agreeing to the task. At least there was SOMEONE who was happy to keep me company and show some appreciation.

At 7 p.m. on the dot, the dog gave me to understand he could hold his bladder no longer. So I peeled myself out of the comfort of my wallowing and self-pity, put on some pants, and stepped outside for the second time with him that day. Poor dude practically fell off the topmost of the three steps in front of my door and peed into the bush he landed on. (Though I'm pretty sure the release began even while he was falling).

Two minutes later, when he had freed himself from the shrub, we walked on. I took him down some back streets to avoid the happy throng of the Friday after work crowds, people having a nice time. With other people.

I was thinking about the excuses my friends gave, as if that would be the perfect band-aid for the wounds they were causing by not being there. I had received 23 little obligatory social media posts by 23 people I don't consider to be close friends, but after today, I may reconsider them.

Well, I was walking along, thinking about the day, the dog yanking on his leash, happy to be out of doors. We turned a corner and I almost walked past it, had it not been for the neon reflections off the wet cobblestones under my feet.

On the wall to my right, written in neon light tubes, were the words, "All you need is...." I couldn't make out the last word because the tubes were brightest there and through the droplets of rain my glasses had already collected, things got a little blurry.

I took my glasses off, made the dog sit, and got out a tissue to wipe my lenses with.

"It's shit" a grumbly voice spat out from the shadows beneath the sign.

I put my glasses back on and saw the old man bundled in about 3 coats, a sleeping bag, with an impressive amount of newspapers laid out beneath him.

"Excuse me?" I said, a little bewildered.

"All you need is shit. There isn't a single thing you need. Everything you got is what you want, even that dang dog of yours."

Said dog whined and backed into my legs. He was probably just mad because I had a dog at my side..... We moved on, back towards home, but after just a few steps, I got a call from my friend, requesting her dog back.

The dog successfully returned, and still not a word of congratulation to making it to old age, just a curt 'hello' and 'thanks for watching him', I sauntered on towards the promise of home, Netflix, and a barrel of cheese puffs I had surprised myself with for my birthday. (It actually wasn't such a surprise; I was there when I ordered it online).

At my door I fumbled with my key, it somehow had gotten lodged into some exciting new hole, somewhere in the depths of my jacket pocket. Luckily an approaching housemate let me in, though he pointedly ignored my greeting and thanks.

I finally freed my key and went to put it into the lock, but it wouldn't go in. Perturbed, I knocked on the door, louder and louder until I finally heard movement on the other side.

A woman, dressed in a nightgown and a robe pulled over her, opened the door with a face I didn't recognize. I should have been surprised by this, but I do have people living with me who frequently bring home someone new, but when I tried to get by her, she held out a hand, screeched at me, and shut the door in my face. From the other side she shouted, "I'm calling the police! Leave me and my family alone!"

I checked the name on the door, it was different, but the address was right. I decided to spend the night outdoors and figure it all out in the morning. For now, I was just too tired of the disappointments of the day.

I found a bundle of newspapers, two jackets, and a sleeping bag on the side of the street - perfectly useable things someone had just thrown out. I took them and went into the back streets until I found a nice place with a little light.

Short Story
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About the Creator

Bianca Cornelius

Do you enjoy your stories dark, like your coffee? Without sweeteners or milk to lighten the effect? Occasionally there might be some bittersweet chocolate thrown in for free; call it a mocha. Well, I might just have the right tales for you!

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