Narrator: Chloe N. | Lancashire, England
My dog used to drag me towards everyone. One morning he stopped before the footbridge and started backing out of his harness.
A man stood under the bridge where the path curved beside the stream. He was facing the brickwork with both hands flat against it. I asked if he was all right. He said yes without turning.
I took the other path. It was a long loop, and I felt silly all the way round. When we reached the bridge from the far side, he was standing in exactly the same place.
Except his shoes were level with his shoulders now. His legs bent upwards behind him, knees pointing the wrong way. His head stayed exactly where it had been, and both hands were still flat against the bricks. He hadn’t made a sound.
My dog lay down and urinated. He’d never done anything like it. I picked him up, all twenty-odd kilos, and walked backwards until the bend hid the man.
Someone later suggested it was a flexible person having a laugh. I hope so. I also hope he saw what he did to my dog and felt ashamed of himself.
