Welcome, thanks for stopping by. Thank you, also, to Tai Vicari, for providing the pictures this week. It's writer's choice and I chose this picture which fits perfectly with a new story, first in a new series I'm planning for 2014. No title as yet.

Rory strolled along the path with Bruce. She held a tight grip on Baxter’s leash. Baxter, her pug, loved the park.
“No time for the Boathouse,” he said.
“Too bad. Miss their hot chocolate.”
When they got near the road, Bruce stopped and blurted out, “I think we should see other people.” Sweat broke out on his forehead.
“Other people.”
“Why? Have you met someone?”
“As a matter of fact…”
“Always interrupting. A girl with a regular job in advertising.”
“Not like me, huh?” She put her hands on her hips.
“You’re a dog walker. Do you think that’s a serious profession?”
“I’m a writer…walking dogs to pay the rent.”
“Same thing.” Bruce combed his blond hair with his fingers.
“Not to me.” She gazed at the ground trying to control the tightness in her chest.
“Look, I like you and all…but a woman who’s making a real living….”
“You don’t get it.” Rory looked away to hide her tears.
“It’s not like we’ve been dating forever.” He shifted his weight.
She shook her head. “Six months.”
 Rory yelled at Baxter for tugging on the leash. Bruce put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. “Look…”
Baxter ripped the leash out of Rory’s shaking hand and sped toward the street.
“Baxter! Stop!” Rory screamed.
Pushing Bruce aside, she raced full speed after Baxter. Ignoring the bicycle traffic, she jumped down on the leash just as a bike crashed into her, sending her flying. A loud yelp told her Baxter had been hit, too. Rory  landed hard on her arm. Pain shot through her body paralyzing her. She spied Baxter spread out on the pavement. He was still breathing. “Baxter,” she sobbed.
A pair of concerned blue eyes stared into hers. “Are you hurt?” He asked. 
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