Brittney Peek
I clocked out of work right at five, pulled my jacket around me, and began my walk to Central Park. Autumn leaves fell into place on the pavement as I left the city behind me. For ten days straight, I walked to my favorite bench, hoping to find inspiration for my next novel.
As I sat my bag beside me and pulled out my notebook, I surveyed the park. Secretly, I was hoping he was here again. For the past nine days, I also had a special visitor, one who kept surprising me. My heart longed to see him again. But he was nowhere in sight.
I took a deep breath and opened my notebook as a familiar pitter-patter filled my ears. My gaze shifted and a smile spread across my lips. A medium-sized, black-and-white Border Collie with a single rose in his mouth made his way over to me. He laid his head on the bench and dropped the rose.
“I was hoping to see you today. Thank you for the beautiful flower.” I used both hands to thank the dog. Then, like the days before, he turned and walked away.
I watched him take a few steps then returned my attention to the blank page in front of me. I shook my head. “What are you doing? Your story is literally walking away.”
Driven by curiosity, I packed up my things and trailed the dog. He moved purposefully, ignoring distractions like passing squirrels and children. He approached a man in a suit, barking once to get his attention. The man turned, smiling. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a treat, bending down so the dog could eat it out of his hand. When he stood, I immediately recognized him.
Intrigued, I approached. “Doug, is that you?”
“Sarah, a pleasure to see you outside of work. I hope you’re enjoying this beautiful day.” Doug patted the dog and looked my way.
“It’s good to see you too. Is this your dog?” I asked.
“No, but I’ve started running into him in the park after work. He’s always alone, so I started bringing him treats. But once he eats them, he wanders off to wherever he came from.”
The dog sat between us like it was listening to our conversation. “I’ve run into him the past few days too. I was hoping to find his owner.”
“Well, if you do, please tell them what a great dog they have. I’ve never seen one so well-behaved off a leash. I better be going. I’m meeting my wife for dinner. See you tomorrow, Sarah.” Doug waved and started walking away.
“If not Doug, then who do you belong to?” I took in the Border Collie’s shining brown eyes, hoping they would reveal his secret. Almost like he wanted to answer me, the dog started walking again. I followed.
It wasn’t long before we exited the park and crossed a busy Manhattan street. He walked two more blocks and turned into a neighborhood … my neighborhood. My pulse quickened, and thoughts swirled in my mind. If this dog lives on my street, why have I only seen him in the park? I scoured the streets, looking for its owner but no one was around.
The dog approached my apartment building and walked through the propped-open front door. I followed, puzzled by his admittance into my pet-free building. He ran up a flight of stairs and exited on the second floor. He sat on the doormat outside Apartment 2B and gently scratched the door. The door opened, the dog ran inside, then it closed behind him.
This was my chance. I walked over and knocked. Jack Spenser opened the door and stared back at me. Jack, the handsome, rule-following Marine was Apartment 2B? Our gazes met, and words escaped me. I had only ever seen him in the common areas, never knowing or asking which apartment was his.
“Jack, hi. Uh, is that your dog?” My cheeks flushed as the words stumbled out of my mouth.
“Hey Sarah, yeah … that’s Bolt.” He smiled and rubbed the back of his crew-cut hair.
“I thought pets weren’t allowed in this building.”
“They’re not. But Bolt’s a working dog so they made an exception.”
“A working dog? What kind of work does he do? I just see him in the park every day.”
Jack chuckled and glanced back at Bolt. “He’s a search and rescue dog in training. I drop him off in the park at different spots to see if he can find his way back. But this time, it looks like he brought someone back with him.” He smirked.
I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and looked down at my feet. “You don’t have him just finding his way back home, do you?”
“What ever do you mean, Sarah Myers?” Jack’s smirk grew into a full-fledged grin.
“Bolt has found me in the park the last ten days and somehow brought me a rose every time.” I looked past him to see a vase with two roses on his counter. My hand immediately went to my hip, and I locked eyes with Jack.
“I may or may not have helped him with that.” His cheeks flushed.
“And why would you do that?”
“Because, Sarah, I like you but didn’t have the courage to tell you in the laundry room. You’re a writer; I wanted it to be a romantic gesture good enough to be in your books one day.”
Butterflies took flight in my stomach. How could I have missed his feelings for me? I felt the same for him but never thought he would be interested. I took a step closer to him, my heart racing.
“Well, I like you too, Jack, and I definitely think I’ve found my story.”
In the time since, she has written everything from online furniture descriptions to op-eds on the importance of current events. Now, she writes stories with themes of faith and hope that highlight her Christian faith. Most recently, her short story “Runaway Groom” was published in Spark Flash Fiction Magazine. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers, was a 2021 First Impressions finalist, and a 2024 Crown Awards finalist. When she’s not writing, you can find her attending concerts, shooting scenic photos, or planning her next adventure.
You can find her online on Facebook, Twitter (X), Instagram or her website.
Spark Flash Fiction 