The house is so quiet and dark that I can barely make out the street number. I glance at the empty space where her husband’s car would be parked, the dim illumination if the street lamp highlighting a puddle on the ground instead. He’s not here right now. Good. My step quickens and my hands tremble, eager to get inside, to see her, to have her. I walk up to the house and sneak into the already open front door, a yellow glow framed in darkness.
As my eyes scan the dimly lit entryway, I take in my surroundings. I hear the shuffle of paws and a slight whimper as the image of a small dog comes into focus. She’s standing on a spotless white tile floor, the tip of her tongue sticking out in a permanent lull. Who is this adorable creature? She greets me lazily, waddling closer, as another little fuzzy friend approaches, tentatively cocking her head with an exaggerated eyebrow. I greet both as I continue to scan the room, looking for Her. My breath catches as my eyes pan upward, taking in the sight of the object of my desire.