The man with one Leg

It’s hot.

Torching hot. With the scorching sun on their back, the boy and the dog begin their journey on the long path again. Sweat is running like a small river. From his head, down to his cheeks and meeting up to his chin. Dropping on the street. Leaving a mark on the earth, before it vanishes quickly. Like it never existed. They need water. Water to clench their thirst. The boy takes a glance at the dog. The dog’s fur is shining. Shining from the sweat. The boy is looking back at the street. He knows that the path needs to end somewhere. But right now, he can’t see the ending of his journey.

An hour later.

The dog starts to bark. Confused, the boy looks in the direction where he barks. It’s a small puddle. He rubs his eyes. A puddle of water. However, near the puddle, the boy sees something. Someone. A man is sitting in front of the puddle. He is wearing a hat. A torn shirt. A black pant with too many holes. Before he could warn his dog, the dog runs. Towards the puddle. Towards the water. He reached the puddle. And stops. The boy reaches the puddle too. And stops beside his dog. Nearby he can observe the man better. The man doesn’t move. His arms are lying in his lap. And his eyes are looking towards the water. Reflection of the water shows his face. He has wrinkles around his mouth. But he doesn’t smile. Most importantly, there is no light in his eyes. No hope. No happiness. No sadness. Only darkness. Like his eyes are long gone. And he sees something that the boy can’t see. The boy doesn’t know if he should speak up or touch the man’s shoulder. Ask him about the way. Or helping him. He notices something on the man’s body. His left leg is missing. Scared, the boy takes a step back. He doesn’t know how to approach the situation. They need water. Otherwise, they will collapse. The dog begins to move. Not towards the puddle. Towards the man. The man doesn’t look up. The dog moves his hand and begins to lick it. The man flinches.

His hand moves.

Towards the dog’s head.

The boy wanted to take the dog away from the man. But. He pets him. Slowly, but firm. The dog pants excitedly. He lets go of the man’s hand and drinks the water out of the puddle. The boy can’t comprehend the situation. Slowly, he walks up to the puddle. The man still won’t move. Finally, his thirst wins over his thoughts. He drinks water like he has never drunk it before. Desperately. But hopefully. When his thirst was finally gone, he fills up his bottle. He stood up to continue his journey on the street again. The man still won’t move. And his eyes didn’t change. The dog pokes the old man. A silent goodbye. As they step up the road, the boy looks over his shoulder. Maybe the weather plays a trick on the boy’s eyes. But he could swear that the man’s head moved. The old man closed his eyes. And smiled. Brightly.

He was finally at peace.