Bark - May 22, 2012

[note: this was written during a writing exercise: we had 20 minutes to write something inspired by the word "bark". This is the result, unedited, exactly as it appeared when time ran out. You can read all of them in the waves category]]

Bark - Squiddy Geiger - May 22, 2012

The gate was open, and Rex was nowhere to be seen. I cursed under my breath, grabbed my jacket and the leash, and went out in search of the blasted dog. As always, it fell to me, even though I didn't like the yappy little mutt.

I knew his route, but I didn't know how long he'd been out, so I walked quickly around the block, checking yards and in bushes, then headed down the alley. No sign of him. Ok, farther afield. Next block over, same search pattern and no dog. Now the park.

As I entered the park, he started to bark. It was an odd bark, excited and fast, I'd never heard it before. It was coming from the other end of the park. As I pushed through the trees, other barks joined his, a veritable chorus of yaps and howls and barks.

I came out into the open, and stopped, staring. There was a circle of a dozen or more dogs around an object about the size of a small truck. The dogs were circling it, staring at it. As I approached, more dogs were arriving and joining them.

The ship (for that's what it was) was a silver cylinder, on its side. It was featureless, nothing marred its perfectly smooth, shiny surface. Until, of course, a crack appeared, and a hiss as of escaping air. The crack grew, until a door appeared.

A small shaggy figure appeared, and skittered down the ramp to the ground, where it sat staring at the circled dogs, who stopped moving. The six-legged entity raised an appendage and waved it, as it intoned something in a language that sounded almost like it should make sense, but didn't.

I approached, watching. I was behind it as it tried again, the same words, with the same frustrating lack of meaning. There was still no response from the watching canines. The being turned towards the door and beckoned. Fourteen dogs of various sizes came bounding out. I recognized two of them from recent "lost dog" posters.

The dogs raced into the group of waiting dogs, and a melee of excited, happy butt-sniffing ensued, the being forgotten. The latter, at this, turned and walked back into the vessel. The door closed behind him with a solid "k-chunk", and the vessel started to glow. Without a sound, it lifted from the ground quiety, and zipped off into the sky.

I told nobody. Neither did Rex.

Posted by Squiddy at May 22, 2012 08:45 PM | TrackBack