Mr. Moore by Lou Normann

Photo by Isabela Kronemberger on Unsplash

Mr. Moore had just passed away when we walked in. I couldn’t believe how quickly he’d aged since I last saw him. Mom always told us that the more you ignored something, the more it’d make its presence known to you, boy was she right. Mr. Moore’s condition was something we all tried to ignore, after all, he became one of us, but I don’t think anyone loved him more than I did. He was the only one who always played with us kids, he was always the first one to grab the ball for a game of catch, at the pool he was always the first one in the water and the last one out. And he swam better than all of us.

Looking around the room seemed like the whole population of Orange Grove sent him flowers and get-well cards and such. I never knew someone who died. People in Orange Grove seemed to last forever, my great grandmother lives in an old folks’ apartment just down the street from us. 

I was in the middle of P.E. and shocked when grandma came and took me out of school. When she said Mr. Moore was dying and wanted to see me, I had to leave. The coach understood.

I remember back the first time I laid eyes on Mr. Moore; I knew he’d become a good friend. Little did I know, my whole family accepted him in, the neighbors, almost the whole town. He had no home but soon everyone was takin’ turns acceptin’ him in. Heck, he was even mayor for a day – I’ll never forget that, and I bet he never would either. Everybody ate free ice cream that day. 

Yeah, Mr. Moore was well liked, well, really loved… and now, he just lay there, motionless like a statue. I’m sure gonna miss Mr. Moore, we all will, but after the car hit him, Doctor Davidson said it was best this way, it would save him from terrible pain afterwards, to just put him to sleep. I guess he would know best, being the town vet and all. Mr. Moore, I’ll sure miss that old German Shepherd.

Lou Normann is an author of adult thriller, but the short story was his first love.

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