The Black Dog Tracks Behind

The serrated knife edge of cold that had been at my throat every morning this month was dropped today. I walk without dragon breath. Sun blessing my bones as it cracks the thin crust of ice on the canal.

Not thwarted by sunlight, the black dog tracks behind. The combined joys of the weather and the first day in a week when I have not been blinded by a headache, means he is further back than usual. He might catch up later, but right now I have a start on him.