She pushed his ample, drooping hair away from his peaceful, expressionless face. She longed to stare into the brown, soulful eyes that she knew were hidden behind those eyelids. Eyes that would never again meet hers. She felt her own brimming with tears.
"Oh God. Why didn't I see it coming?" she whispered, yearning for a reply.
"Oh, you couldn't have known."
"It wasn't your fault."
"His time had come."
Those were the responses that she longed to hear, but no response came from the small crowd gathered around the simple coffin. Her mind drifted back to that fateful day (had it really only been two days ago?) when she lost one of her dearest friends. The images flashed before her, screaming through her consciousness like a freight train on its way to some nameless location for some unknown purpose. The speeding car. The screech of the tires. The happy expression on his face before he noticed it. The frighteningly empty look in his eyes after it had hit. She was broken from her reverie by a gentle hand on her shoulder. It was Bobby.
"I'm so sorry Claire. He was a great friend."
She nodded, not sure of her ability to speak without shattering the fragile dam that held back her tears. She felt another hand settle on the other shoulder. She turned to peer up at the face of the person whose hand had comforted her as he spoke,
"It wasn't your fault, Claire. It was just Pavlov's time."
She rested her head on his chest and shut her eyes.
"I know, Darien. Thank you."
This is dedicated to the memory of my dog Tammy who died the day I wrote this. May she Rest In Peace.