Jet walked along the sidewalk to the donut shop with his dog Hugo trotting along by his side. Hugo looked ridiculous in his green and black striped sweater but Jet thought it was cute. He never expected to have a dog that looked like a chihuahua whippet mix.
One morning a year ago Jet’s girlfriend Allison was putting the garbage in the communal dumpster in the alley behind their building and thought she saw a baby squirrel. It was Hugo. By the time she got back into their apartment she was in love with the tiny creature.
The morning air was cold. The coffee and donuts would be hot. Allison was home with the cat, and a broken leg.
When Jet arrived at Daisy Donuts and Coffee, he put Hugo in the main pocket of his backpack. Then he took two reusable thermal coffee tumblers out of the side pockets.
Today he picked out two bear claws, and apple fritter, a mochi glazed cake donut, a chocolate cake donut, a pumpkin old fashioned donut, two coconut muffins, and a cinnamon roll. That would last them for a few days. The cinnamon roll was for their neighbor Kate. Jet would always leave something for Kate, who was as old as dirt. Jet and Allison were too young to worry about their sugar intake and Kate was too old to have to worry about hers.
Kate remembered WW2. She was that old.
On the way home Hugo stayed in the backpack with his head poking out the top. Jet never got tired of the view of the ocean, the palm lined streets, and the yards full of succulents. Maybe he’d be somewhere else one day but for now this was perfect.
Nothing else happens in this story. Allison finished graduate school, got her cast off and walked across the stage to get her diploma. Kate told them more stories of her childhood during the Great Depression and told them they had to watch BEEF on Netflix. She’d worked in the movie industry, so she told them to support the Writer’s Strike. Jet liked his job writing music for video games and singing in an alternative rock band on the weekends.
The coffee was hot. The donuts were yummy. Jet loved Allison. Hugo was a good dog. And for this one Sunday morning that was all that mattered.
A nice sweet tale. Thanks for this.
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