Hi, name's Jeff.
So, I usually sit on my porch and look at dogs; playing and barking dogs; dogs picking fights, at times. I sit there, holding my beer, 'til the sun sets, occasionally shouting and cursing at the mutts; don't know why. They have no owner and they live off trash. They haven't always been there, but I'm not sure exactly when they started showing up. I guess I didn't really think much of it: just stray dogs snooping around; sometimes they'd try to get food out of me, too bad for them, I don't have anything to spare, so I'd just spit on 'em; tell 'em to get lost. One of 'em once tried to bite me; kicked him on the truffle with my steel caped boot; they got the message.
Anyway, one day, one of 'em stupid dogs stole one of my boots that I had let outside to dry; heard some rattle on my porch so I checked it out: little bastard was shaking my boot, trying to rip it to pieces. I barged outside, tried to grab him, but he got away, gamboling with his tail up like a cheeky cunt. He disappeared in a narrow trail in the bushes, with me after him. It led to a rail road and continued past a moat and to a small grove. I could see his nasty tail by moments, annoyingly waving in the air like a rotten straw broom. Now, I lived in rather small town near the the countryside, but I never noticed the following. After I got out of under the trees, I was surprised by quite a big infrastructure, made of dark brick and with broken windows. Not a single graffiti. I couldn't really tell it's purpose, but it seemed abandoned. The dog crawled into a hole in the brick wall; I ran to it and crouched through. I'll never forget what I saw then, on the other side.
Modify Entry |
Ethics