His tail wags as he sees me. Ears pricked up, his brown eyes stare into mine, innocent and pure. In another time, another place, I may have fallen in love with this dog. But as he sits at my feet, on the cold marble of the airport floor, all I have to offer him is a half-digested bag of pills that were to fund my family’s emigration.
The pills and I will no longer fulfil our purpose, we will sit and rot behind walls, casualties of a war neither side wishes to end. I never dreamed of being a soldier. I never dreamed of squatting over a DEA manufactured salad bowl while two grown men wait for me to take a shit. I will the acid in my stomach to burn and churn, so the condom may burst open inside and give me one last moment of bliss, before the chemicals race to my heart and remove me from this nightmare.
I open my eyes to the satisfied grunts of the officers. Bingo, says one. The eagle has landed, says the other. They smirk, and tell me I can pull up my pants now. No-one offers me any toilet paper.
They lead me back out in handcuffs. I spy the dog, sitting next to his handler, the collar tight around his neck. His tail wags again, as if we are old friends. I wonder what he dreams of, and where his mama and papa and brothers and sisters are, and which men removed him from them. He seems happy, in his new life, and I tell myself to forget Mama and all the others.
It is not so easy to do.
END
This story was long-listed for the Bath Flash Fiction Award 2020 and published in their yearly anthology, ‘Restore to Factory Settings.’