100 Words – Daze

A sour note blown from a reedless saxophone startles me back to awareness. I don’t know where I am or how I got here. At the end of the block the street signs tell me I’m only a few miles from home. Deep thoughts lulled me into a sleepwalk of sorts. The dogs are having a ball. New places to smell. New trees to mark. For a moment I consider calling for a ride, but figure the explanation would take longer than the walk. The old dogs are tired and take turns being carried. We get home just past midnight.

Author: Tom
Writer, cyclist, RVer, etc.