Dawgs of the Military

Empty

Maice stared at her house. Slowly, she made her way to the front door, closing it softly. She took a deep breath and looked around. Maice gathered her all the drawings scattered throughout her house. Carefully, she made her way to her small truck and shoved the first stack in. Then came the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth and final stack of drawings that covered half of her trunk. She closed her eyes, letting the tears drift from her eyes to the bottom of her chin. The breeze sang in her ear and the sunlight was faint, leaving the sky gray and dull. She walked away from the truck and to the back of the house. There, she heaved her fathers old rotting wood canoe of the rack, placing it along side the drawings. The end of it stuck out a little but Maice left it. Maice scooted herself into the drivers seat and stared out the windshield. Her eyes were red and puffy, wet from the droplets of salty water. She slid the key in and paused, then reluctantly turned it. Before she started backing out she looked around. The front of the car held old letters, stained floors and an old box of matches. In back, aside from the rotten canoe and papers, held a broken flower pot, a tennis ball, two gasoline tanks, and a wheel to a bike. Maice bit her lip and looked forward, putting the truck into drive and ever so slightly pressing the gas. She drove slow, eyeing the back part to be sure the canoe was okay. She looked beside her then back to the rode, thinking for a moment. She looked back at the passengers seat, and stared, pulling over to the side of the rode. She picked up the small frail note, covered in coffee stains and food crumbs. She read the small words to herself, then flipped it over. On the back side, an old sketch of her father smiled back at her, his eyes big and bright. Maice couldn't feel any emotion run through her, the sadness had left and happiness disappeared. "Empty."