A short scene, three ways

1.

"Go fetch!" shouted Lucy, launching a tennis ball across the lawn. Lucy was a foolish girl, whose body outgrew her smarts. She launched the ball further than she expected, right into oncoming traffic. For a moment she stood dumbstruck, then shouted, "No Sparky! You'll get run over! Look both ways before you cross!" But Sparky was merely a dog, and did not understand human speech or road safety rules, nor did he stop to consider what it meant to cross the property line. Dogs are dogs, they don't rationalize. All he understood was the joy of chasing a grey ball through a grey yard onto an equally grey stone river. He held onto that joy up until he died. To this day, Lucy still rationalizes what happened.


2.

Oh, cruel fate! How could a game do simple, so carefree and innocent, ten thus to horror? Blood and bones and dented hoods! How Lucy cried aloud, cursing the now sweating palm that had led her beloved to his untimely and unjust death. Why had he not heeded her warnings? Why must he have loved her so blindly, so devotedly, as to leap into death! To lay there still with a smile, tongue lolling about the accursed ball! And now he is but guts upon the road. The driver leapt from his car, and Lucy pounded on the murderer's chest. How dare he come now, to wrap comforting arms around her! Begone you vile human sample! Sparky would breathe still, bark still, wag his tail still if it had not been for you! If only, if only...!


3.

Lucy enjoyed testing faith. In second grade she convinced Kyle Murray to wait by the chain link fence for a kiss, and left him there all afternoon. With her dog she was no different. With every toss of the tennis ball, she urged Sparky further and further into the road. Her mother had warned her once not to take one's trust for granted. Lucy threw the ball one last time. This was the lesson learned.