The Frayed Beauty

It was a cold breezy morning and he had to wake earlier than usual as he had been assigned trash-emptying duties. He opened his eyes, rolled over and grudgingly got out of bed. Smiling at the rays of moonlight shining into his room, ‘like the smiles of a beautiful goddess’, he thought.
Opening the doors with the trash-can in his other hand, he looked up at the moon, frayed on the edges  like a toast bun, he was still smiling when opening the gate he startled two street-sleeping dogs, one white and the other brown. Being a lover of dogs and missing his dogs back at home, he immediately did the dog-call, ‘lka lka lka’, tongue in sync with fingers;  the white-haired hairy dog ambled shyly over. He bent down and caressed this strange calm dog, moon dog, he called him. It was a stupid idea, but he did it anyway. The brown dog who had dashed off in alarm, nicknamed earth dog was observing from afar, a scared witness to man meets dog at dawn in silver land. It was with sadness he emptied the trash and went back in, leaving behind the frayed silver beauty and the white-haired brown-eyed stranger.
Office had to be prepared for, life had to go on, but tendrils of the frayed beauty and the white-haired stranger lingered on and still lingers, making for a warm heart any time, any day.
The end.
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