The Heads of Cerberus – Georgiann Carlson

“Your dog has three heads,” he said, staring at the dog.

“No he doesn’t,” she laughed. “That’s not possible.”

“He does. See,” he said, pointing, “One, two, three.”

“He just shakes his head so fast that what you’re seeing is the afterimage of where his head has been.”

“That’s not true.”

She looked at her dog, made a face, and the dog sat down. The dog had one head. “Look, there’s nothing unusual about him at all.”

“How?” he mumbled. The dog trembled slightly, his lips raised, just the tiniest bit.

“Cibbie,” she said, softly, smiling at him. “We’ll go for a walk in a minute.”

“One head,” he said, rubbing his chin with his hand. “I could have sworn…”

“Well, if you’ll excuse us,” she said, already walking past him.

When they turned the corner, she sighed. “I know it’s hard, but when we’re up-top, my love, you can only have one head. The norms are not used to seeing three-headed dogs.”

Cibbie whined.

“I know you want to be yourself, but you just have to hold it together a little longer. And, by the way, you look quite beautiful.”

He bumped her in acknowledgment. She looked up, she saw the tip of a black wing disappear into an alley. “Let’s get him Cib,” she said, taking off.

The Heads of Cerberus were back. The dark angel was up against the wall, where the graffiti behind him read, IF YOUR LOOKING FOR HELL, YOU ALREADY FOUND IT.

“How appropriate is that?” she laughed, running her hand down Cibbie’s back.

“You don’t have to do this,” said the angel. “You know that. I didn’t DO anything.”

“Hmmm. I think you did. You ran away and now look, you’re up here with the norms. Daddy’s very angry, isn’t he Cib,” she whispered, running her hand down the angel’s arm.

“Fine, then just do it, and get it over with,” he said simply, his wings extended.

Cibbie whined and went to the angel. The angel bent down and petted him. “He was always my dog, you know,”

“Arggg. Brothers can be such a pain,” she said. “Just go home and talk to him, will you?”

“Can I have my dog back?”

“Yes, if you’ll give me mine,” she sighed loudly. Then she walked into his arms, he covered her, as well as Cibbie, with his wings, and all three of them went home.

I’m an artist, a writer, a vegetarian, an animal rights activist, and quite a few other things as well. I love books, cats, philosophy, good conversation, Chicago and the arts. So my blog is full of bits and pieces but it’s the bits and pieces that make life interesting to me. You can read more of my writing at Rethinking Life

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