black dog rocks

the black dog grins as it runs, lead in its mouth. close behind is a young guy on rollerblades, topless, and on his right, like the trunk of an old tree in motion, a woman in a wheelchair. then, a dude riding goofy on a skateboard with one hand on the wheelchair, his black mullet streaming as he brings up the rear.

i file this information so deep in my brain that it vanishes while i'm spooning tea leaves into the pot, waiting for the kettle. later, in the back of the Bies' wagon on the way to black rock, we see another dog carrying its own lead and i remember the view from my kitchen window this morning.

'well that sounds like a family, right there,' says Mrs Bies. i get another vision: in ten years from now i'll still be doing this, tagging along on their family outings, by then sharing the back seat with their little ones, amid mouldy fruit and half-chewed rusks.

another summer at half-moon bay.