David was speeding; again. Being charged three tickets in the past month clearly had no effect on his driving habits. His cell phone rang. Oh well, I guess I should slow down since I'll be on the phone.

"Yellow?" In his distracted state he only pressed his foot harder onto the pedal.

"Foster, it's Josh."

"I know; I have one of your songs as a ring tone. What's up?"

"My mom gave me a puppy! He's so cute. Mom says he's a Wheaton Terrier. I've never heard of the breed, but it doesn't matter 'cause he's so cute."

"A Wheaton? I've heard of it. He sounds cute. What's his name?"

"Sweeney."

"Aww, Sweeney? After Sweeney Todd, no doubt. THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE LONDON!"

"Want one of Mrs. Lovett's pies?"

"No, but thanks for the offer. Hey buddy, I kind of have to go right now, but thanks for calling. We should catch up sometime."

"Yeah, well, you're always welcome at my place." There was a crackle on the line and Josh would later swear that he heard David scream. "David, David?" The only reply was the constant beep of the dial tone. Beep, beep, beep, beep.

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Beep, beep, beep, beep. The heart monitor was a hopeful sound for Josh. It meant that David was alive, and that in turn kept Josh alive.

"I'm sorry, sir, you can't go in yet," the doctor stood in front of the door to David's room.

"But, is he okay?"

"I'm sure in time he will be. Other than a few scrapes and bruises his only injury was a concussion. He got lucky this time."

"And I can't see him? Why? I'm family, you know." A lie, but one that wasn't far from the truth.

"He's sleeping, and we really shouldn't interrupt him right now. This is a critical time of healing for him. Why don't you browse our hospital gift shop?"

Josh looked at his feet a shuffled to the parking lot. He unlocked his Porsche – what a beautiful car it is – and drove home. When he opened his front door he was met by fur and tongue; Sweeney, that is. The puppy leapt into Josh's arms, barking for attention. As soon as Sweeney met Josh he became attached, and would freak out if Josh tried to leave home. It seemed the dog had a bad case of separation anxiety.

Josh sat on the floor, his back to the door, and hugged Sweeney; petting him, reassuring the dog that he was here to stay, while at the same time trying out the lie on himself. Would everything really be okay? Why do people always say that? Two tears rolled from his eyes, one right after the other. He tried to dry his cheek on Sweeney's fir, but Sweeney just licked him over and over again. What a wet tongue he has.

"Sweeney, look at me," Josh gently held the dogs head so that they both looked each other in the eyes. Josh rumpled his soft ears. "You need someone to love you and take care of you, and I need someone to help me, too. If we both try to help each other, maybe things can work out for both of us. Maybe," here comes the lie again, "maybe everything really will be alright."

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