Late Arrivals, Early Departures

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253 looking for comfort. Blood dripped to the brown grass, the damp wind ruffled it. They would begin again, thought Philip. The dog waited patiently. Philip would wrap its leg in a blanket, lift the animal into the back seat of his car, take it to the vet. The Arabs would laugh. Philip lifted his eyes to the night, listened to the wet wind, the cry of a child, the chilly promise of rain; stood before the broken dog and waited for it to bark, just once, to speak to him. To say that everything would be all right.