by Nathan Good
Today feels a little like the day I saw the dog with its head stuck in railings. Sometimes I think back to the way I stood there and watched it struggle. Its hind legs scrambled for grip, its back arched and straightened, its neck muscles spasmed and saliva dripped from its gaping mouth, passing panicked breaths. Now as you raise your head I see that same look in your eyes. "Please," you say, and hold out your hand hoping that I will cover it with mine and tell you it's all going to be ok. "Please," you say again, but I'm still thinking of the dog and how I should have helped him.
Nathan Good lives in Derby. His friends do not call him "The Enigma," and he resents them for that.