Time of Need

In the road, a dog. Days dead, that dog. Liliana was walking beside me awhile (I am sure) and I was almost not crying but then found what I was looking for. She heaved it for me—all of it, the stench, the weight— in her thin arms until it was too much. Tired, she dragged the thing by its wasted paws all the way home. Her dress was stained. This is how I learned about love. She did not mind at all the silent, steady distance I placed between us.