an odd winter day [open]

[DESMOND TENNESSEE LEWIS]

"C'mon, Scooter," Des whistled, encouraging the aging dog to hurry along. There was a thin layer of ice coating the paved pathway in the park and Desmond was careful not to race across it. Sure, he was pretty light on his feet but add a layer of ice on any terrain this boy stepped foot on, it was sure to end disastrously. Sighing, Desmond watched his breath fog in the cool air as Scooter still took his time sniffing the frosted ground. Curling his chest, Des attempted to keep warm on the chilly December afternoon as he walked the family dog. Leash wrapped around his left hand, he buried both deep into his pockets, waiting for Scooter to lose interest in whatever the frozen ground held just so they continue.

"It's not that entertainin', Scoo," he mumbled, lips trembling from the cold. As he looked around the park, trying to find something to occupy himself as the dog dillydallied, Desmond found nothing. He couldn't spot another person in St Charles Park, a place where he practically inhabited for most of his youth. From spring to fall, Desmond raced along the muddy grass, dribbling a filthy soccer ball along the way. That was how he spent his free time as a child, playing soccer. And it seemed to have paid off as he now was playing at university level. But even in the late portion of the soccer season, the air never seemed this chilled. No wonder the park seemed abandoned. A smile graced Des' lips once hearing the pitter-patter of Scooter's claws across the pavement. Who would think heavy scratches could make a man happy?

"Good boy, Scooter," his hand reached down, rubbing the top of the eight-year-old dog's head. "Let's get goin', I'mma freeze out here, boy," Desmond remarked, beginning to shuffle his feet across a patch of ice. Slow, smooth motions, he tried to remind himself. Well, at least if he was to fall, the park appeared to be empty and that eliminated the issue of witnesses. But what Desmond hadn't anticipated was for Scooter to stop short and become interested in the line of shrubbery they began to pass. As the leash tightened, Des' feet glided across the ice, his center of gravity shifting, his back connecting to the cold, frosted pavement with a loud crack. Mouth jarred open, Des gasped, feeling an old, familiar pain dead square in his back. The sharp intake of air caused the twenty-year-old to lie completely still, staring up at the gray sky. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his four-legged friend looking at him with a tilted head before starting to lick Desmond's face. "Damn you, Scooter," he cursed, starting to sit up.

___________________________________________________________________________

_{Word Count 456
Inspiration Nothing currently. // outfit
Tags open
Status Complete
Template By Arro @ Caution 2.0
Picture By I modified it, but not sure where it originated...}
[/size][/blockquote][/i][/sub]