08 November 2007

Black Dog Barking: Chapter 1

Why is it whenever a person walking past sees me in the window barking they always seems to assume I'm barking at them, and not for them? Just now two girls went by, a blond and a brunette. They saw me. They heard me. They even blew me kisses. But did they come up to the window? Did they stop and think that maybe I wasn't barking at them, and that maybe I wasn't even barking at that cheeky rabbit on the neighbor's dewy lawn, but that maybe there was an emergency in here, that I needed their help? If only someone would come up to the window and look in, look past me, they'd see what was wrong. They'd see the dead man on the floor. They'd see Red. He was my ... well, I can't really call him my master. He looked after me. Fed me. Took me for walks. Played with me. Talked to me. Kept me company. He was a good man. He died a few hours ago. It must have been at four or five in the morning. I don't want to say how. I know, but right now I can't say. I just wish someone would come. I need to get out of here. I need to chase that rabbit down and rip him to pieces.

2 comments:

piscadoro king fisher said...

hey john thanks for popping by my blog i so rarely get traffic there! i'm gonna try and read some of this stuff. is it a novel? work in progress? email me anytime toadvine666@gmail.com man i appreciate you making contact rock on!

Unknown said...

I am enthralled, cant say too much more. Im looking forward to the word "More". I do have a request, please ?
The painting you have posted is very interesting. Might you have time to share a name or a site to where I could look at more closely ? email is onelilsin@gmail.com
Thanks so much ! Best wishes for a New Year. ~ K