servant

by Oliver Land

On shift at the cafe, I saw a man outside walking a Jack Russell without a lead. The dog ran into traffic and was hit by a car. The man rushed into the road, and held it in his arms, screaming. There was a lot of blood on the road.

The driver said he was sorry. He hadn’t seen the dog. It was too small. The owner didn’t respond, he just said no, over and over. Then he stumbled away with the dog in his arms, blood dripping beneath him.

I went back into the café and told the staff to stay inside, not to look out the window. One cried, not knowing why, only from how serious I was. I filled a bowl with soapy water and carried it outside with a broom. I held up my hand to warn traffic and dribbled the water on the blood, guiding it toward the drain.

Then I scrubbed the blood and soapy water to the sides of the road and into the drain, the crowd watching in silence. I went back and forth with the water and broom until the road was wet and soapy, and the blood had gone, leaving no sign of what had happened.

Photo of Oliver Land

BIO: Oliver Land is an English writer whose work has appeared in Hobart, Expat Press, A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Spectra Poets, and Be About It Press. He is @xoliverlandx on X and Instagram