The Dog
By Steven Shabo
He came out of nowhere. If I had been paying better attention, I might have seen him. But I doubt it. I hit him head on. I think he died instantly or at least I hope he did. He didn’t have a collar or tags. I parked my car and pulled him off the road. I asked the people at the bus stop if they knew who’s dog it was. They didn’t. I stood there looking down at him; his eyes wide open frozen in a terrible moment. I told him I was sorry and said a silent prayer even though I’m not a religious man. Cars passed us by as the people continued to wait for their bus. I got back into my car and drove off.
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Steven Shabo is a cancer survivor who lives in Houston,Texas.
By Steven Shabo
He came out of nowhere. If I had been paying better attention, I might have seen him. But I doubt it. I hit him head on. I think he died instantly or at least I hope he did. He didn’t have a collar or tags. I parked my car and pulled him off the road. I asked the people at the bus stop if they knew who’s dog it was. They didn’t. I stood there looking down at him; his eyes wide open frozen in a terrible moment. I told him I was sorry and said a silent prayer even though I’m not a religious man. Cars passed us by as the people continued to wait for their bus. I got back into my car and drove off.
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Steven Shabo is a cancer survivor who lives in Houston,Texas.
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