The phantom friend

It’s like that habit you have where you play with a ring on your finger, or touch an object in the house as you walk passed it every time.
When the object is removed by default you still reach out to touch it, to play with it, before realizing it is no longer there.

So often my hand reaches down to touch the once fluffy large head that always hovered around by my hip. I do it when I am anxious, sad or just not paying attention.

A pet’s peace.
by Tracy M. Johnson
Photo- my dog Anakin
by @biancapacitto (instagram)

anakin

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