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At ten years old, Henry is still a pretty active dog, and he doesn’t show any signs of slowing down in his older age. It’s something that I don’t take for granted, considering he’s been my best friend and companion for the past eight years as he has worked as my guide dog.
I place my hand on Henry’s head, scratching between his ears. His fur is thicker, so I make a mental note to give him a good brush tomorrow morning because things will get hectic once classes start on Monday. Although we come early every year to campus so we can learn the best routes to my classes before the orientation week starts, things are always crazy these first few days as we both reacquaintance ourselves with the pandemonium that’s the beginning of the semester.
“You ready to go home, buddy?”
The mention of home has his head snapping up with interest, as it always does. I let out a soft chuckle, grabbing his harness off the bench where I had left it earlier. “C’mon, you earned your dinner.”
Henry slips into his harness easily, and I secure it before getting to my feet.
The walk back to our apartment is short. There are a lot of reasons why I loved this apartment. The three bestselling factors were that it’s dog-friendly, close to campus, and has a dog park just around the corner so Henry can get enough play time where he can just be a dog, and not my eyes, even if it’s only for a moment.
As we come to a stop before the front door, I slide my hand into my pocket, pulling out a key, when I hear the soft notes of a guitar playing in the air. I suck in a breath, my whole body going still as I stand and listen. The dark, haunting melody is unfamiliar but so beautiful it makes my heart ache.
Who is playing that?
This is the first time I’ve heard anybody playing here, and I would have known because this is my third year living in this building. Usually, I was the one playing on my keyboard.
Did somebody new move in? I don’t think it’s anybody from my class. I’ve heard their stuff, and it’s nothing like this.
It has to be somebody new.
Somebody different.
Just as suddenly as the music starts, it dies down. I stand there and listen, hoping whoever is playing will continue to do so, but they never do.
Maybe it was just a radio?
Shaking my head, I let out a shaky breath and push open the door.
“Apartment, Henry.”
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