Zelda bounds ahead, four paws crunching through the dead leaves. She side-dashes into a copse of trees. David calls out, almost frantically though she can hardly disappear between the slender trunks of winter birch trees. Zelda dances back obediently, resplendent in her shocking pink coat—because she’s a girl, David had said when he bought it—sorting our dog into the expectation of gender roles normally reserved for humans. The coat flashes brightly against the gray trunks and the muted corpses of leaves, in the fog settling over the trail.
Zelda wiggles at my feet, a blast of colour next to my dark jeans, and the hanging tails of the army coat I bought at the thrift store.
Girls should wear pink, David said to Zelda when he first cajoled her into the coat and aren’t you pretty he says every time after. His eyes don’t cut back to me, his gaze doesn’t travel over my muted palette, the fabric of my navy shirt straining over our impending joy, but girls should wear pink, his stiff shoulders say when he brings home another bag of baby clothes and praises our dog for being everything I’m not.
Finnian Burnett teaches undergrad English and creative writing. They’ve published in the Bath Flash Fiction Award Anthology, Daily Science Fiction, Flash Fiction Magazine, and more.
In their spare time, Finnian watches a lot of Star Trek and takes their cat for walks in a stroller. Finnian lives in British Columbia with their wife and Lord Gordo, the cat. You can find Finnian on Twitter at @FinnianBurnett and at www.finnburnett.com.
Photo by Ashleigh Robertson on Unsplash.
Wow, Finnian. You really inspire me to try a hand at this😊👍
I love your writing. Always hits truth and never where expected.
A lovely, read from a good writer on a dull day is always a pleasure!